


From Afar, I Came to Love You

by Set-My-Heart-on-Fire (Speary)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Katsudon Bang 2017, M/M, Pining, Pre-Series, Some veiled worries concerning homophobia in Russia, VictUuri, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10095275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speary/pseuds/Set-My-Heart-on-Fire
Summary: Viktor had every intention of keeping his focus on the GPF, his last GPF. He would focus entirely on the routines, the winning. It would be for Yakov. It would be for Lilia. They asked for so little from him over the years. He could give them this. There would be time later for other thoughts, other desires and considerations. Then he saw Yuri Katsuki.





	1. A Beginning in St. Petersburg

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to the Katsudon Bang mods and members of the DM that provided so much entertainment and encouragement. Thank you especially to the mods for creating the lovely title card promo. Thanks also to Nicky for the beta read. I appreciate you so much. You'll find the art for this fic in chapter 3. It was made by Jack also known as locattss on Tumblr.

 

He woke up with a start. The blankets were all tangled around his feet and legs. His breathing was coming to him in a rush that might slow back down to normal if he could just shake the dream. It had been like this for weeks, maybe longer. He told himself that it was the season. He told himself that once he was back on the ice, back competing, it would all be fine. This wasn’t normal though, and Viktor knew it.

 

He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. It was short now, and he sometimes forgot that. He had cut it short back when he'd first felt the weight of it all settle on him. It was a nice change. The feelings now though were more intense. He wondered if it was his age. He moved his legs so that they’d hang over the side of the mattress. His knees popped a little as he moved. The room wasn’t cold. Usually his joints only responded like this in the winter. _I’m old._ He got up.

 

Makkachin lifted her head and looked at Viktor past her mop of curly brown hair. “Come here girl. We’ll run. That’ll fix everything.” Viktor stumbled off to the bathroom and pulled his tracksuit down from a hook. He intended to run through the square. Exercise was good for one’s mood. Makkachin nosed at his thigh as he pulled on his pants. “I know. Food first.” He smiled down at her.

 

They wandered downstairs together to the kitchen. He filled a dog bowl for her and a mug of coffee for himself. He leaned down into the fridge to consider his food options and decided  to save eating for later. Running on a full stomach wasn’t likely going to fix his mood one bit. He sat at his table and pulled on his running shoes. Makkachin would be finished soon enough and ready to go.

 

Viktor opened his music app on his phone and scrolled through his playlist. He had a list for running and some lists filled with songs that he was considering for the upcoming season. The new season, was looming on the not so distant horizon. He never really stopped training, but he was at the top of his game and didn’t really need to do much other than show up.

 

Maybe that was it. He was bored. He had a friend that had sent him some music, not to consider for a routine or anything, just music. He scrolled through his playlists until he found the song. It was really like two songs that were part of a theme. When he was first given the music, he thought about turning the song into a routine, but he couldn’t picture himself skating to it. He felt like the subject was not personal enough, and that he was not connected to it. _Maybe someday._

 

Makkachin finished and trotted over. She let out a little whine, and Viktor put on her leash. He popped his phone into his pocket and put on his headphones. The music was paused as they walked down the stairs to the outside world. Viktor wanted to wait until his run to listen to it more fully. Makkachin tipped her head back as they stepped outside and seemed to sniff the air for something. Viktor let her take care of her business in the small patch of grass next to his building. With that out of the way, they began their run.

 

Viktor reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He set the music playing. He began his run slowly at first, a steady looping drum of footsteps to match the tune in his ears. As the song made its way into the chorus he picked up the pace. Makkachin matched his pace with ease. St. Petersburg was aglow with the early dawn light. Everything seemed golden. It was just early enough that the square was mostly empty. He could feel his heart beating faster as he ran. He ran and ran. He wondered if he could run enough to end all of the feelings that were weighing heavy on him. He could retire. He thought this often now.

 

The song shifted tones in the second half almost like it was a different song. He began picturing the music coupled with a routine. The notes, long and graceful, filled his ears. He pictured a skater, not himself, standing still on the ice. He stood there, hands raised in front of him as the music propelled him into movement. The skater moved over the ice as if he felt the music from fingertips to toes. It was in him, and he was meant for the song.

 

Viktor could imagine each bit of footwork, each leap, and each spin. He slowed his run. He let the music wash over him as he ran toward the sun, the horizon. He almost leapt into the air. Instead he came to an abrupt halt as the song ended. He bent over and pressed his palms to his thighs as he caught his breath. Makkachin sat.

  
Viktor looked toward the horizon, his pale blue eyes like water took in the world. He tried to imagine the skater and the routine again. He closed his eyes so that he wouldn’t lose it. The skater wasn’t him. The skater was better. Viktor sucked in a deep breath and held it until his lungs felt like they might burst. His heart pounded in his chest. The song whirled about in his head even now in the near silence.


	2. The First Time I Saw You

The first competition of the season seemed somehow distant until it wasn’t. He ran each day with Makkachin, then suddenly he was getting travel plans from Yakov. It was good. He’d been too much in his own head. Winning would fix that. 

 

Now that he was in the arena though it was hard to find his focus. Some distractions traveled with you.

 

Yuri Plisetsky sat next to him, tapping his feet on the floor in an annoying manner. Viktor reached over and settled a hand on his leg to stop the incessant tapping. Yuri glared at him. He moved his hand away from the child. Yuri tapped more furiously. Viktor put the headphones in his ears and got up. He could wander away for a time, gain some focus. His chest still felt full, like the air was thinner. Competing had helped a little but not as much as he had thought that it would. Despite his best efforts, it seemed he would not be able to fully shake the ennui from summer. He was still bored, or something akin to that. 

 

There had been months of practice, months of listening to Yakov bark out orders like he didn’t know that they were still young enough to hear him without the yelling. It was always like that, always the same pattern of efforts and outcomes.

 

Viktor strolled off down the hall, away from the crowds and the noise. His phone felt heavy in his hand.

 

He thumbed through the playlists until he came back to his song. He barely listened to anything else. He thought for a moment that maybe he should listen to the song that he’d be skating to, get in the zone. He didn’t care though. He knew the song and the routine to perfection. His performance would be flawless.

 

He turned away from Yuri and the ice and wandered off toward the hallway. He made eye contact with a few of the other skaters as he passed, but everyone knew the code, headphones in, leave him alone. He wandered. The halls contained small clusters of people here and there. The groups thinned out the further he walked. He felt his breathing even out, and the weight on his chest lessened. The first song ended. Two skaters sat at the end of the hall together, backs to the wall. They hadn’t seen him.

 

Viktor found a spot on the wall and leaned into it. He casually turned down his music but didn’t remove the headphones. He tried to recall their names. He closed his eyes for a moment and sorted through the mental rosters of skaters that he’d encountered over the years. He opened his eyes again. The one was Phichit Chulanont. He was from Thailand. Viktor paused his music, but held his phone in front of himself as if he were watching something. They still didn’t notice him. They were watching something themselves on Phichit’s phone.  _ Why is Phichit here? He isn’t competing. Moral support? _

 

The other skater had an intense look on his face as he stared down at the phone. Viktor wondered what they were watching that had so much of their focus. He closed his eyes a second to work through the names of the skaters, until he recalled the name of this one.  _ Yuri Katsuki of Japan. _ Viktor opened his eyes and subtly watched them, Yuri in particular. Yuri pulled the headphone out of his ear with a scowl. “It’s cutting out,” Yuri complained.

 

“I’ve been needing to replace it,” Phichit replied.

 

Phichit pulled the headphone jack out of the phone. The music was audible now and very familiar. Viktor schooled his smile. They were watching his routine. Yuri spoke again. “Look at his footwork. And here comes the quad.” He sighed. Viktor barely kept from laughing. “I’ll never be this good.”

 

“None of us will ever be this good. We gotta have our dreams though,” Phichit said. 

 

Yuri tipped his head to the side then and smiled at the screen, “Yeah, we do.” There was something wistful in his tone, a type of longing that seemed to run deep. Viktor studied his face for a moment, serious and flawless. His hair was slicked back a bit, but a strand of the raven black hair fell over his forehead into his eyes. Yuri kept brushing it back. Viktor thought for a moment that he should step forward, offer the boy some help with his clear hair problem. He didn’t though. Instead he let his eyes wander over the build of him, the muscles that seemed to be barely contained by the too tight costume. 

 

He licked his lips and sucked in a breath that didn’t fill his lungs in a painful way like it had before. Viktor felt ready now to head back. He pushed off the wall, and heard Phichit say, “Oh, we should go stake out a spot. Viktor’s going to be up soon.” It was then that they looked his way. Yuri grabbed Phichit’s arm. They both grew wide-eyed and seemingly a little freaked out. 

 

Viktor tossed them a smile and a little salute as he turned away from them to wander back. He didn’t turn his music back on, so he heard them in his wake. “That was Viktor. That was Viktor.”

 

“Did he hear us?”

 

“I think he had his music on.”

 

“I can’t believe he was standing there the whole time.”

 

Viktor couldn’t place which one said what, but he smiled with some satisfaction as he headed back. The one was captivating. It pleased him that Yuri Katsuki would be watching his performance.

 

* * *

 

Viktor stepped onto the ice. The crowds fell away. It was just him and the music and the dream. He tipped his head back for a moment and let his eyes close. The song began. He breathed in, let the notes sink into him. He knew that he’d win this. He didn’t care about that though. Everything was the song, the movement, the feel of it all. He dropped his head and began his routine.

 

The rush of cold air flowed around him as he sped around the arena. The song picked up in intensity. He rounded the turn and prepared for his first jump. He didn’t have to think about it much. He just had to feel the song, the moment, the air. He leapt with grace and landed his quadruple lutz and followed it up with a triple flip. He spread his arms out wide at his sides and swooped toward the center of the ice. 

 

The routine ended with cheers that he felt drumming past his chest. He landed all of his jumps. He would take the first position with ease. He let his eyes move out over the crowds that were in the stands. He pressed his fingertips to his lips and then raised his hand in a wave to them all. Then he lowered his gaze to those that were gathered along the rink wall. Yuri Katsuki and his friend were there, cheering. Viktor felt his lips curl up into a smile. He turned and skated off the ice.

 

He waited for his scores and was pleased with the results. He took a spot next to the rink wall to watch Georgi Popovich take to the ice. He did well enough, so they would not have to deal with him sulking too much that night at least. He didn't have the stamina though to really succeed in the long program.

 

Normally, he’d find a quiet spot to sit and view the remainder of the routines. The crowds just seemed too overwhelming in the moment. Instead he kept his spot at the rink wall, even after Yuri Katsuki and his coach left the area. There were a couple of lackluster performances, then Yuri Katsuki was announced. Viktor felt himself grow a little more attentive.

 

Yuri skated out to the center of the ice. He carried a different demeanor now than he had in the hall earlier. He seemed almost taller. His costume was a tight fitting pair of black pants with a vibrant blue top. It accentuated his build and would capture the lighting to great effect. The music began. It wasn’t anything that would have particularly stood out if it weren’t for Yuri himself.

 

Viktor watched the fluidity of Yuri’s body as it glided over the ice. He seemed to move as if the music was coming from him. There was beauty in all that he was doing even if the choreography was less than inspired. Viktor stepped back from the rink wall and let himself slip into the shadows a little. He kept watching though. The music was nearing the end. Yuri had jumped and landed a triple toe loop and a second triple not long after. His jumps needed practice. Viktor could see it though, all that Yuri could do with the proper motivation. He let his mind wander over the possibilities.

  
The song ended and Yuri left the ice to await his scores. 86.45. It was respectable, but nothing that would propel him toward the podium. Viktor let his mind replay the routine, and all that Yuri brought to it, all that he could bring to it too. He left the arena. He wouldn’t soon shake the imaginings that Yuri had inspired. He’d make a point to watch his efforts more, maybe look up his past routines once he was back at the hotel.


	3. A Song to Pass the Time

Winning was something routine for him. His solid performance in the long program earned him the gold. Viktor didn’t feel it in the same way as he had before. This year though, he took the time to notice how others reacted. The way that they celebrated the second place awards, and the losses. He wanted to give up sometimes, let them have it, but his pride wouldn’t allow for that. He did like putting his all into the performances. It mattered even if it felt different.

 

He went back to the hotel and considered a trip to the pool to just relax. They planned to fly home in the morning. He changed and threw a bathrobe over his swim trunks for good measure. He grabbed a bathroom towel and tossed it over his shoulder and headed up to the rooftop pool deck.

 

Christophe Giacometti was already swimming laps. Viktor tossed his towel and robe onto a nearby lounge chair. “Chris,” Viktor waved. “Mind a little company?”

 

“I was just considering getting out. You’ve convinced me to stay. Get in.” Christophe popped his arms up over the edge of the pool and stared up at Viktor.

 

“Good.” Viktor dove into the pool over Christophe’s head. He popped up halfway across the pool. “The skating was good today.”

 

“We don’t talk about that. That’s work.” Christophe swam over to him. “I did look good out there though.” He splashed Viktor in the face and swam away. Viktor splashed him back.

 

“I was thinking about some of the other skaters.” Viktor stretched out and floated on his back.

 

Christophe swam back to him. “Really? Who caught your attention?” Viktor just raised a brow, but didn’t answer. “Really, tell me. I need to know who you think is worthy of more attention than me.” Christophe smiled in that way he always did. He knew he was good looking. He enjoyed playing it up.

 

Viktor swam over to the edge of the pool and leaned into the side a bit. Christophe took a space beside him. “Katsuki from Japan.” Viktor wondered what he hoped to gain from starting this conversation, but Christophe knew everyone. He’d likely be able to provide something resembling a background.

 

“Ah, the late bloomer.” Christophe settled his head on his arm and kicked his feet behind him, making little waves that slapped the edges of the pool. “Yuri is interesting.”

 

He seemed like he wasn’t going to say much more on the subject, so Viktor prodded, “And…”

 

“And what? He’s hardly got a chance of winning. He barely made the cut to be here in the first place.” Christophe looked away and kicked his legs out a little harder. “He’s nice to look at though.” He turned back to Viktor with a smirk. “Eh,” he added with a waggle of his eyebrows.

 

Viktor splashed him. “He is,” he admitted a moment later as he turned around to face into the pool. He tipped his head back and stared up at the sky that was twilight dark. The horizon still held hints of the day. He’d be heading home soon. His feelings on that were complicated.

 

“You look troubled.” Christophe settled a hand on Viktor’s arm.

 

“It’s nothing. I just have a lot to consider. I’m getting old, you know.” Viktor rolled up a half smile and paired it with a wink. “I’ve got to start thinking about my future.”

 

“You are still at the top of your game Viktor Nikiforov. You don’t need to throw the towel in for at least another five years.” Christophe let out a little frustrated humph of air and pushed away from the wall to backstroke across the pool.

 

When he stopped swimming, Viktor asked, “How many skaters do you know that do this into their 30s? Can you name even one?”

 

Christophe laughed. “No, but you are not like the others, and neither am I. We can outskate the young pups for many years to come.” He swam back to Viktor and stopped just in front of him. He reached up and cupped his cheek. “Don’t you even think of quitting. You are the only one that makes this any fun for me.”

 

“I haven’t made any decisions yet.” Viktor ducked away from him and swam the length of the pool. When he turned to swim another lap. He noticed that Christophe had gotten out and was taking a few pictures. It wouldn’t be a normal day for either of them if they didn’t post their lives on social media. He swam to the edge at Christophe’s feet and propelled himself up out of the water. Christophe snapped a few more pictures. He leaned over and showed Viktor. “Are you going to post them or am I?”

 

“Well they are on my phone.”

 

“Then the pleasure will be yours. It’ll get the fan’s tongues wagging.” Viktor walked over to where he left his towel and picking it up, dried off.

 

“I do love all of their little imaginings. One of these days we should give them something to really talk about.” Christophe walked over and gave Viktor a swift slap on his butt, before he scooped up his robe and slipped on his shoes. “You might be less bored then.”

 

“I’m not bored.”

 

“Okay then. No more talk of this quitting business. Let’s go get some drinks and let this day fade into history.” Viktor put on his robe too, and Christophe looped an arm around him, drawing him away, back into the hotel. There was a small hotel bar just off the lobby. It would suit their purposes.

 

Viktor looked down at his phone as they got into the elevator. Christophe’s post, well actually his post, was already getting attention. He clicked on the likes to see who was among the first in a quickly growing number of fans. He scrolled as they walked together. He ignored the small squeal of some fans that greeted them as they left the elevator. Christophe gave them a wave. Then a name in the likes stopped him. It was Yuri Katsuki, or maybe a fan that chose to use an image of him as an icon. He turned his phone to Christophe and asked, “Is this Yuri Katsuki?”

 

“Looks like it.” Christophe took the phone and gave it a bit more scrutiny. He clicked the icon and looked at the posts, something Viktor now realized he could have done. “Yes. I guess he’s a fan too.” Christophe handed the phone back. Viktor let his thumb hover a moment over the follow button. He didn’t click it though. Instead, he turned the phone off and slid it into his robe pocket. He could think about this all later.

 

* * *

 

The bar wasn’t exactly busy when they entered. In fact, one might say it was a bit dead. Many of the fans had gone home after the final performance. He and Chris still wandered off to the far corner where the piano was stationed. It was a glimmering black piano surrounded by cocktail tables. The bar was lining the front of the room. It was an old ornate wooden bar that had shelves running up to the high ceiling.

 

It made sense to find a secluded place. They were in the media constantly, usually by their own endeavors. Viktor was a bit tired though, and the weight he was carrying within his chest was growing again. Chris pressed a hand to the space between Viktor’s shoulders and whispered near his ear, “What will you be drinking tonight?”

 

“Surprise me.” Viktor sat and Chris wandered off to the bar. Viktor took the moments to scan the vast room. He and Chris stood out in their robes. _Should have changed._ He thought this at first then remembered how much he didn’t care about what people thought. That had been a growing thing inside of him, since the recent onslaught of media coverage that his country had received for the opinions that politicians thought they should share aloud. Viktor was done with playing a role for them.

 

“Hey Viktor.” He was startled a little by the voice and looked up into one of the most earnest faces he’d ever seen.

 

“Phichit, right?” He smiled at the guy as he said it.

 

“You know me?”

 

“I have seen you skate in some of the preliminaries. I always watch the performances of my potential competitors.” Viktor glanced just past him and saw that some of the other skaters were coming in with their significant others. Chris came back to him with a couple of drinks.

 

“So, who is joining us?” Chris asked as he sat down and nodded toward the now very silent Phichit.

 

“You’re Christophe Giacometti,” Phichit stammered.

 

“Yes, you’re a fan,” Chris started.

 

Viktor interrupted, “He’s a competitor. He skated at Barcelona last year if I recall.”

 

“You remember me.” If Viktor didn’t invite him to sit the boy would likely pass out. He waved at the seat across from them.

 

“Like I said, I do my research.” Viktor took a sip of the drink that Chris brought to him. It was something gin based and pleasing if rather mild.

 

Chris was already bored with the present company and started waving over the other skaters that were lingering at the bar. “Come join our party.” They laughed and wandered over with their drinks. _The night would be long,_ Viktor thought.

 

“I should call my friend Yuri down. He…” Phichit seemed to devolve into mumbles as he pulled out his phone and began furiously texting. Phichit looked concerned, his brows coming together as he stared at the screen.

 

Viktor got up and stood behind him. “Is he going to come join us?” He looked down at the text stream. It was nosy, sure, but he was curious. Phichit did nothing to shield him from the words.

 

_Come down to the bar. I’m at a table with Viktor Nikiforov and Christophe Giacometti._

 

_Don’t make fun of me._

 

Phichit looked up at Viktor then, reading over his shoulder. “He thinks I’m lying I guess.”

 

“Why would he think that?”

 

“We admire your skating, so I think that he believes that you’d never be in the same room as people like us.” Phichit shrugged as he said it.

 

“I skated on the same ice as him today.” He came down into a squat at Phichit’s side. “Take a picture with me and send it to him. Tell him to come have drinks with us.”

 

Phichit didn’t hesitate. He held the camera out and snapped the picture. “Good?” he asked while holding it out for Viktor to see.

 

“Perfect. Send it.” Viktor got up and moved back to his seat. He smiled, all satisfied with his subtle efforts. He’d made sure to angle himself just so. His robe wasn’t exactly snugly fastened; in fact, his chest was rather exposed. _Yuri Katsuki._ He let the name roll around in his mind. He let the images from before of Yuri's performance take up residence in his daydream. He moved to the piano bench and let his fingers dance over the keys for a moment.

 

Everyone fell silent. One of the other skaters that joined them, Marcus, maybe, said, “You going to play us a song Viktor?”

 

“Maybe, if one comes to me.” He winked and smiled down at the keys. He reached up to his glass and finished off his drink. “I might require bribery.” He shook his now empty glass.

 

Phichit actually got up first and took the glass. “Got it.” He moved off swiftly to the bar. Viktor wondered if Yuri had replied to the text yet. Georgi and Anya came into the bar, and spotting them, came over right away.

 

Viktor started playing some random tune on the piano, nothing too loud. Georgi leaned against the edge of the piano and said, “Couldn’t bother to get dressed, eh?”

 

Anya leaned over and said, “I’m going to get us some drinks, Georgi. I’ll be right back.” She sauntered off and Georgi followed her movements. Viktor noted the whole thing. Georgi had been so focused on this relationship that nothing else was in his head. It was all Anya, Anya, Anya. There was something about it all that didn’t sit quite right.

 

Yakov, their coach, had noted it too. The little vein of frustration would throb at his temple as he’d yell across the ice at Georgi, “Focus! Focus! Focus!” Normally, Viktor would feel some desire to defend the other skaters from the worst of Yakov’s rages, but not where Georgi Popovich was concerned. He did need to focus. He needed to do a lot of things. Maybe skating wasn’t for him though.

 

He kept playing the piano quietly. “Are you going back to St. Petersburg with us tomorrow?” Georgi asked.

 

“You know I am.” He tipped his head to the side. “That’s an odd question.”

 

“Not so odd. I thought that maybe you might extend your time here, make a vacation of it. Meet someone.” He turned around a little more and rested his back and elbows on the piano, but he still talked with Viktor. “You know it would do you some good to meet someone, settle down.”

 

“You still haven’t learned the fine art of subtlety Georgi.” Viktor winked at him.

 

Chris came to the bench seat next to Viktor and sat alongside him. Georgi said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

 

“Oh, we both know.” Viktor began playing a new song.

 

Chris asked, “Did I miss something?” Viktor just smiled at him. There was warmth pouring off of him. He was pressed a little close. Viktor didn’t mind though; it was just how Chris was.

 

Georgi said, “I was just asking if Viktor was going to stay on a bit before returning to St. Petersburg. I thought he might vacation before the next competition.”

 

“I thought I might extend my time here by a day or two.”  He tipped his head to the side and seemed to regard Viktor for a reaction to the words.

 

“I have a bit of work that I need to put into the routine. Plus, Yakov would not like it if I extended.” Chris’ hand moved to Viktor’s leg.

 

“Half the fun is tormenting our coaches. Besides, you and I both know that you don’t need to practice. Our scores weren’t even close. If anything, you should take a break so that I might have a chance.”

 

They both laughed at that. Viktor stopped playing and took a drink. He nodded over at Phichit. “Thank you for the drink.”

 

Phichit said, “Of course.”

 

“You hear from your friend?”

 

Chris leaned into his ear and asked, “Who is his friend?”

 

“Oh, he said that he didn’t think he’d be comfortable.” Phichit seemed to fidget for a moment.

 

Chris asked Phichit now, since Viktor had ignored the question, “Who are we talking about?”

 

“Yuri Katsuki.” Phichit gave his answer quickly, and Viktor could feel the effect of the answer on Chris next to him. His leg that was pressed to the side of Viktor’s own seemed to shift minutely away. He moved his hand off of Viktor.

 

Viktor felt a small measure of guilt. He turned a little to Chris and said, “I’m taking song requests. You get the first one.”

 

“I think the first one should go to Phichit here.” Chris waved to him. “Tell your friend that Chris Giacometti has made a formal request for his presence at the bar.”

 

“Okay. It’s unlikely to make a difference. When Yuri gets it in his head that something needs to be a certain way, he tends to stick with it.” Viktor filed that away. “He usually avoids the social functions that come up after competition.” Phichit seemed to be passing Chris’ summons along though, regardless. “How about the song, ‘Shall We Skate?’ Do you know it?”

 

Viktor let his hands slide over the keys. He played the song and even sang. Chris joined him in the singing. Their voices worked together a little, but it wasn’t a perfect harmony. It was like two dancers that wanted to lead. People still clapped when they finished. Phichit had even filmed it, presumably to post it on his social media.

 

Chris got up. “I’m getting another drink and a closer look at that.” He nodded toward the bar. Viktor followed his gaze and saw that there was a tall long-haired business man leaning into the bar, waiting for a drink. He looked familiar, but Viktor couldn't place him at this distance.

 

“Good luck.”

 

“Don’t need it. Have you seen me?” Chris winked, and Viktor thought that made things better. He began playing softly again. He glanced up toward the entrance, hoping that maybe Chris’ encouragement had managed to get Yuri to venture down to the bar. It was growing late.

 

“Phichit, tell Yuri that Viktor Nikiforov has made a formal request for his presence.” It was absolutely unheard of for anyone to deny him, so he had some expectations for Yuri now.

 

“I did tell him that you were here,” Phichit said.

 

“Yes, but you didn’t tell him that I wanted him to come to our little gathering. I’d like to meet him, I think.” Viktor picked up his drink and finished off the last of it. The ice slid down and gave his lips a cold little slap.

 

“Okay.”

 

 _And if he doesn’t come? What then? I won’t beg. I’ll fly home to St. Petersburg in the morning and feel what it is to be disappointed._ He didn’t ask Phichit the outcome of the text. Instead he leaned over and showed Phichit his phone. “Is this you two?” He showed him the two social media accounts that he and Chris had looked at before.

 

“The one is me. The other isn’t Yuri. He doesn’t have a public social media.”

 

“He has a private one though?” Viktor felt like he was being quite obvious in his interests and wondered how long it would take before Phichit put it all together.

 

“Yes, it’s just for lurking though. He never posts.” He scooped up Viktor’s drink and said, “You want a refill?”

 

“Sure.” He left and the night wore on. He played another song, and then another. People kept bringing him drinks, and he felt the effects. Chris seemed to have a modest amount of success, but he was back at the piano without any added company. Viktor watched the entrance to the bar with ever decreasing vigilance. At some point he realized that Yuri would not be making an appearance.

 

It was perhaps because of this acceptance, that Viktor thought that he saw a familiar figure move into the bar. He had a head of dark hair. He moved with some purpose directly to the bar. Phichit wasn’t looking his way. The man took a seat and didn’t look at them.

 

Viktor changed the song he was playing just as he was hitting the chorus. The whole group groaned as they were just getting into the sing-along spirit. “I wasn’t feeling that one. Sorry.” He started playing a little melody that was nothing but filler sounds. “Tonight we have so much to be grateful for. We have friends.” He waved a hand around to indicate them all. “We have our good looks.” He winked at Chris and gave the rest a smile that showed he was half-joking. They laughed. “Most importantly, we have love.” He nodded at Georgi and Anya who happened to be standing now between Viktor and his view of the bar. “So let’s sing a song for the end of the night that is about love.” He began playing Elton John’s ‘Your Song.’”

 

 

Everyone knew it. They sang along. The man at the bar didn’t turn around right away, but Viktor was certain that it was Yuri. He sang louder than before. It might have been the many drinks that encouraged this. Chris was pressed to his side again, singing just as loudly near his ear. He had an arm thrown over Viktor’s shoulder, and Viktor leaned back into him. He needed the support.

 

As the song neared it’s end. Chris pulled him into a tighter sideways hug. Viktor looked at the man at the bar and made plans to approach him. He sucked in a deep breath. Chris pulled him up and said, “This was a good night. I’ll walk you up to your room.” Viktor smiled and they moved away from the piano together.

 

At that moment the man at the bar turned. He looked straight into Viktor’s eyes. It was Yuri. _He came down. Finally._ Viktor was about to shrug away from Chris to approach Yuri, but nothing was quite going right for him that night. Chris leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Come on. Off to bed with you.”

 

Yuri was still a ways off. He got up from the bar though and walked with purpose right out of the bar. Phichit came over to Viktor and said, “Was that Yuri that I just saw leaving?”

 

“You’d have to tell me. I’ve had a bit to drink.” Viktor liked the way everything felt so warm all of a sudden. Chris was warm. The room was warm. Yuri came to see him, even if he had to leave in such a hurry.

 

“I think it was.”

 

“Good.” Viktor smiled.

  
Chris gave him a little shake and said, “Come on Viktor.” Viktor went. Chris kept him upright all the way back to the room.


	4. Homecoming

He awoke with a start, the taste of words still in his mouth and an image fading in his mind of a face. He wanted that person to taste the words, to know them. He had a bit of a headache but not too bad. Someone had left a glass of water on his nightstand. He was alone.

 

Viktor rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and then picked up the glass of water. He drank it down in two swallows and then saw the aspirin that had been arranged next to the glass. “Oh.” He scooped them up and dry swallowed them with a grimace.

 

There was a too loud knock at the door. He stumbled over to it, still waking up. He opened it to find Plisetsky glaring at him. “Get dressed, idiot.” His foot was still angled like he’d been kicking the door. He was always kicking things, like he was perpetually angry or something. 

 

Viktor mustered a smile and said, “What, this isn’t good enough?” He was still wearing the robe from the night before.

 

“Our plane leaves in two hours. You were supposed to be in the lobby 30 minutes ago.” He scowled. “You are lucky that Yakov didn’t come up. He’s furious.”

 

“He hates missing flights.”

 

“Don’t make us late.” With that, Yuri turned away from Viktor and stalked off toward the other end of the hall and the elevator. Most of Viktor’s clothes were already packed. He spent the time necessary taking care of that the other night before heading to the pool.

 

He walked into the bathroom and gave his appearance a critical look. He opted for a quick shower to wake himself up. He got dressed, and managed to get out of the room in 30 minutes. They’d be cutting it close. They had first class seats though, and that coupled with his measure of celebrity status would get them to their seats on time.

 

Yakov was pacing the lobby when Viktor showed up. “An hour late. An HOUR!” 

 

“What about Georgi?” He asked, fine with just tossing Georgi under the Yakov bus. 

 

“Unlike you he showed up on time and caught a cab to the airport. He did not want to be late.” He turned from Viktor and marched out the front doors. Yuri smirked at Viktor likely happy to not be on the receiving end of Yakov’s bad temper. They had a private car hired to take them to the airport. He likely cost them a bit more by making them wait.  _ Maybe I should have stayed behind. _ He got in the car and pulled out his phone. 

 

He had messages. He pulled up the first text, just Yakov texting at him in all caps. There were missed calls too. He ignored those. If he wanted to hear Yakov yell at him, he’d speak now. He didn’t, so the car was silent. The second set of texts was from Chris. 

 

_ Not even a goodnight kiss. You are getting old Viktor;) _

 

He smiled at that. He texted back.  _ Yes, so old. Maybe it’s time for me to hang up the skates. _

 

Chris replied immediately with a picture. He was still in town. He had his cheeks cupped in his hands and an expression that clearly was saying “No.”

 

_ I suppose that means that you don’t approve. _

 

Chris took longer to reply this time.  _ I would rather lose to you than win without you there to see it. _

 

Viktor didn’t know what to say to that. His smile was a little wistful. His thumb rubbed the edge of the phone. He typed back.  _ I should have extended my stay. _

 

The response was immediate.  _ Oh? _

 

_ Yakov has been boiling over since I didn’t show up on time in the lobby. We are minutes away from another round of yelling.  _

 

_ Oh, I thought maybe I’d been more convincing than I realized. You almost gave me hope. _

 

Viktor felt a small wash of guilt run over him. He didn’t get a chance to reply before Chris added,  _ Pretty sure Phichit and his friend left very early this morning. _

 

_ You saw them? _ Viktor tipped his head back against the seat and thought,  _ Good job, Viktor. Very subtle. _

 

_ Only in passing.  _ Chris waited a few minutes and then added,  _ Next time I’ll take a page from Yuri’s book, play coy. _

 

_ I’d almost pay money to see that.  _ Viktor tried to imagine what that would even look like. Chris was confident, all bravado and sex. He was not, Viktor thought, capable of anything even remotely subdued. 

 

_ So now you are offering me money. I do not know what to make of you Viktor. Do you want a shy boy or one that knows his way around the proverbial block? _

 

And that was the million dollar question. What did he want. He thought about it. He thought about more than just relationships; he thought about his life too. He was heading home now, but what was home to him? It was a finely decorated empty cell. If it weren’t for Makkachin, there’d be no one to greet him. He closed his eyes against the headache that was pounding, pounding, pounding. 

 

He read the text again.  _ What do I want? _ He thought. He ran a hand through his hair and massaged at the back of his neck a little while he thought about it. There was so much that he felt was missing in his life. When skating was done, what would he have? He’d have a pile of gold medals and some lonely memories. His head slid to the side a little and his forehead came to rest against the cold window.  _ I want more than this.  _

 

Chris interrupted his thoughts with,  _ So, shy or confident? _

 

Viktor knew he was making a choice even though it might not sound like it.  _ Both. I want both, and a whole bunch of other stuff that I haven’t figured out yet. _ It was the closest he’d come to making any real choices. His fingers drummed at his thigh. Chris couldn’t be both, but maybe there was someone out there that could.  _ I just need to find him. _

 

* * *

 

He parted from Yakov and the others at the airport. They hadn’t talked much as they flew, but Plisetsky made sure to kick the back of his seat every 20 minutes just to make his presence known and felt. Viktor didn’t find it upsetting in the way that Plisetsky likely intended. Instead, he understood. It wasn’t easy being in the public eye, separated from your family for the better part of the year, and constantly working to the brink of physical exhaustion. 

 

Yuri Plisetsky was impressive. Viktor wondered how long it would be before this child surpassed him. He smiled at the thought that it might be soon. The boy lived in Viktor’s shadow though. He got the seconds. Yakov gave all of his students attention, but it was Viktor that clearly carried the team, so it was Viktor that everyone looked to.  _ How can he ever shine when I keep getting in the way? _

 

Getting back into St. Petersburg was a relief in some respects. He wanted to sleep in his own bed, see Makkachin again, and get back into his home routines. Traveling was exhausting. He had a driver that took him from the airport to his home. He took his bags in and then walked down the street to Lilia’s place to retrieve Makkachin. She had been Yakov’s wife, but that had ended not so long ago, and now Yakov lived in an apartment not far from the rink while Lilia kept their original home. It ended up being convenient for him, having her nearby, and he wondered sometimes if that was why Yakov didn’t fight for the house or anything when the two of them split. The whole thing was rather civil if strained. And because they’d both been so much a part of his life growing up, Viktor never even thought twice about having her watch over Makkachin whenever he left town. She, to her credit seemed to be happiest when doing so. 

 

The look she gave him when he arrived on her doorstep, however, did not seem like a look of happiness though. She had her hands on her hips as she stood in her doorway evaluating him with a glare. “You almost made Yakov miss his flight.”

 

“How’d you hear about that already?” Viktor kicked at the step above his foot a little while he waited.

 

“He called to let me know that everyone was home and safe. He was angry at you.” She was glaring at him, but like Yakov, the look seemed to just be a part of who they were.

 

“It amuses me that you two still communicate like an old married couple. You should just get back together, talk about the hell your skating children put you through.” He smiled at her. Makkachin chose that moment to nose his face past Lilia’s legs. 

 

She looked down at him and her features softened. “Your master is home. Go now.” She turned from the door and grabbed a bag of Makkachin’s supplies and handed them to Viktor. She gave him a nod as he stooped down to nuzzle at Makkachin’s face.

 

“Missed you too.” He looked back at Lilia and said, “Thanks for watching him.”

 

She hummed out a response and closed the door. 

 

Viktor and Makkachin wandered slowly back to the house. He let his mind slip back over the week. The trip had set his mind onto a serious path. He’d considered retirement for the last couple of years, but it had been a distant thing, something that wasn’t pressing.

 

He let Makkachin loose in the house, and she quickly went through all of the rooms smelling everything. Her tail was wagging vigorously with each step. Viktor tossed himself onto the couch and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through his various social media streams and posted a picture of himself on the couch with the caption, Finally Home.

 

Makkachin jumped up onto the couch and settled down half on his feet and half on the cushion. Viktor smiled at the happy looking, fuzzy brown face. “I really missed you too.” Makkachin gave him a tiny yelp in response. 

 

Viktor looked through some of the photos that Chris posted of his extended holiday. He read the captions. He seemed to be having fun. One caption said,  _ Might change scenes for the rest of the trip. Stay tuned. _ Viktor wondered what that meant. He felt the travel exhaustion slowly snake its way through his muscles. He closed his eyes, intending to just rest for a few minutes but, instead, promptly fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

His phone was buzzing in his hand. He cracked open his eyes and peered down at it. Yakov’s name was on the screen with his picture behind it. It was a good picture, a candid shot that Viktor caught when Yakov was distracted. He swiped the button to answer.

 

“Yakov, good morning.” He sounded more awake than he was.

 

“More like good afternoon. I’m calling to give you your schedule.” Viktor could hear the shuffling of papers in the background. “You’ll be in starting tomorrow at 7:00 am. I’m giving you an extra hour to sleep since you don’t need as much time on the ice.” He paused a moment and then added, “Thank you Yakov for your thoughtfulness.”

 

Viktor swallowed and said, “Thank you Yakov for your thoughtfulness.” He had been thinking of cancelling practice this week, but now did not seem like a good time to bring that up.

 

“We will go over your routine. I want to see the way that you’ll work in the extra quad.”

 

“It doesn’t seem like you’ll need me to come in so early just for that. Are you worried about something else?” Viktor sat up a bit more and Makkachin got up and wandered over to her food bowl.

 

“I’m always worried. It seems likely that you’ll have a bit more competition this year. You are getting older, and some of the younger skaters are hungry for gold. You have plenty of gold and don’t seem to be too concerned about winning.” There it was. Apparently he had not been as subtle as he thought.

 

“I’ve been thinking of retiring.” He finally admitted it. He could practically hear Yakov’s shoulders sag with a sigh.

 

“All the more reason for you to be here regularly, focusing on your skating. You will not retire with silver.” He paused a moment and then added, “You also won’t retire this year if I can help it. You’re still at the top of your game, Viktor. I’d like for us to keep on bringing home gold for Russia.”   
  


“I understand.” It was a safe answer, one you give when you don’t want to commit. He was sure Yakov caught the implication.

 

“I will see you tomorrow then, and you’ll have the same schedule for the rest of the week too.”

 

“I might take a day or two off.” Viktor didn’t mean to rile Yakov up again, but his words had that effect.

 

“Now is not the time for that. Have you forgotten that you have your next competition coming in just one month? Have you? Have you noticed that Chris Giacometti is scoring closer and closer to you with each event? For that matter, there’s that Otabek Atlin climbing the ranks too. You can’t afford to be taking time off.”

 

“I understand.” He waited for Yakov to reply, but instead he just got silence. Apparently, Yakov had hung up.


	5. See Me

The afternoon passed, and he filled it with piddly little tasks. He unpacked his luggage while listening to music. He took Makkachin for a walk. He went to the grocery store to restock his fridge. He made a meal and decided to actually eat at his table. He even poured himself a glass of wine. He pulled out his phone after ignoring it for most of the day. He looked up Yuri Katsuki’s performances.

 

He watched everything he could find. _He’s beautiful._ His routines left much to be desired. Viktor imagined what he could do if only he had a routine that was better suited for him. He moved like he was truly feeling the music rushing through him.

 

It was likely due to that line of thinking that he turned on his larger stereo and began playing his music with thoughts of how Yuri might skate to it. “On Love” filled his home. He found himself swooping around the space, adding jumps down his hall. Makkachin watched with interest. He had a small notebook on the table and noted where he’d split the song in two. Viktor thought of how one half was more sensual.

 

In Viktor’s imagination, Yuri moved through the step sequence, through the spins, through the jumps. Viktor could see it all so vividly. There was a knock on the front door. “I’ve disturbed the neighbors, Makkachin. You should have told me to quiet down.” He turned down the stereo and went to the door. He noticed as he passed the hall mirror that his hair was a bit wild. He opened the door. “Chris?”

 

“Hello, Viktor. How about some company?” He smiled broad and at the same time a little timidly. Viktor didn’t know what to make of that. He just stared at him a little longer. “Well, are you going to invite me in or am I going to be riding back to the airport with my tail between my legs?”

 

“Get in here.” Viktor pulled him into a hug and then into his home. “What’re you doing here?” he asked as he closed the door behind them.

 

“Would you believe I was in the neighborhood?” Chris took off his coat and Viktor took it from him to hang by the door. Makkachin came over to investigate. Chris stooped down and gave her a thorough scratching.

 

“Try again.” Viktor was still a little out of breath from the dancing, but he was grinning ear to ear.

 

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” He waved up at Viktor seeming to signify that something was worthy of note.

 

Viktor looked in the mirror again and straightened out his appearance from hair to disheveled shirt. “I was working on a routine.”

 

“So you’re going back to the hard core practicing then I take it?”

 

Viktor tipped his head to the side to consider. He tapped his lips with his finger. “I just told Yakov that I might want to take a couple of days off this week. He was not pleased.”

 

“Oh, so I guess my timing is less than appropriate.” He stood again, and Makkachin wandered back to the living room.

 

“Let’s not stand around in the entryway.” Viktor waved toward the rest of the house. Chris moved into the living room. “I’m glad you’re here. Gives me an excuse to tell Yakov that I have plans.”

 

Chris turned to him and Viktor thought that he’d never seen him look so happy. “So you have a spare room for me, or should I go find a hotel?”

 

Viktor reached out and took the satchel from Chris, slung it over his shoulder and carried it down the hall. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He set the satchel in his guest room, and turned to find Chris right on his heels. “You do get to help prepare dinner though, as payment for the accommodations.”

 

Chris moved closer, smiling. “Happy to oblige. Do you think it’ll be enough though? I hear hotels in this city are pricey.”

 

Viktor gave him a playful shove and said, “Come on. The food isn’t cooking itself.”

 

He had planned to make a steak. Luckily he had more than he needed. He pulled out the greens and vegetables for the salad. He set them on the table. “What do you want me to do first?” Chris leaned into the counter and drummed at the side with his fingers.

 

“There are some knives over there and a cutting board. Go ahead and chop up the vegetables for the salad.” Viktor pulled a large skillet down and set it on the stove. He put in a generous amount of butter. “Would you mind handing me the bowl from the fridge.” Chris opened the door and peered in. “Yeah, that one with the fresh cut herbs.”

 

Chris walked it over to him. “You really were all ready to go with this.”

 

“Your timing was excellent.” Viktor smiled again and wondered how this all would go. Chris turned back to his task with the vegetables, and Viktor prepared the pan for browning the steaks. He melted down the butter and added the herbs: rosemary, parsley, and a bit of thyme. He also had a shallot cut up in there. All of it went in with the butter. He had a bulb of garlic that he cleaned up, then with a sharp whack of his butcher’s knife he crushed one of the cloves then another. He scooped that up and slid it into the pan. “How do you like your steak?” He turned to Chris as he asked and noticed that he was already staring back.

 

“Rare is good.” He looked back down at the cutting board and worked on chopping up some carrots.

 

Viktor turned on the oven to let it warm up while he browned the meat. He actually had some very good meat—two filets. The butter was melted down nicely, the smell of the herbs, shallots, and garlic were just beginning to waft up from the pan. He didn’t want to put the meat in just yet. On the far end of his counter he had a couple of potatoes. He put them on a baking sheet and slid them into the still warming oven. _Wouldn’t hurt to get them started._

 

“How long will you get to stay?” Viktor tossed over his shoulder.

 

“Just a few days. I think I’ll have to leave before Friday. Unlike you, I do need to practice a little before the next leg of the competition.”

 

Viktor glanced over at him. “I might need to just go in a little bit tomorrow. Yakov will have my head if I don’t give him a little attention this week.”

 

“You truly are a changed man lately. What happened to the guy I knew that use to just do whatever he wanted?” They both laughed at that.

 

“He grew up, Chris. He grew up,” Viktor said in mock seriousness. They laughed again. “Hey, you should open up the wine over there. Let it breathe a bit.” Everything in the pan was cooking down nicely. He took the steak and gently set it in the mix. He could hear Chris rummaging around behind him so he turned to help. “Here.” He walked over to his side. “Sorry. Should have mentioned where the corkscrew was.”

 

Viktor handed him the corkscrew and turned to go back to the steaks. Chris grabbed his arm though. “Thank you.”

 

“For what. I haven’t fed you yet. You might hate it.” They stood close.

 

“Just thank you.”

 

Viktor smiled. “You know you are welcome here whenever you get the desire. Consider this an open invitation.”

 

Chris let his arm go and Viktor returned to the cooking. There was a comfortable silence between them with just Chris’ vegetable chopping and the sizzling of the pan to harmonize with it all. Once the steaks were all browned, he moved them into the oven to finish their cooking. He poured them each a glass of wine to have while they waited. The salad was ready and just needed dressing. The food was giving the room a pleasant aroma. Viktor walked over to his stereo and was about to turn on the music.

 

“Will I get to hear what you were dancing to when I showed up?” Chris was at his side. Viktor took a sip of the wine and let his gaze roam from Chris’ face down to his chest and back up.

 

“We are still competitors. I’d rather surprise you with it on the ice.” Viktor smirked.

 

Chris pulled out his phone and clicked through to something. “Here. Play this.” He handed the phone to Viktor. “It’s the piece I’m working on.”

 

“What, you don’t want to surprise me?” Viktor took it though.

 

“I can surprise you here just fine.” He set it up with his stereo so that it would play. It was a soft piano piece. The melody was so quiet that he almost turned it up, but Chris stopped him with a hand settled over his. “It get’s louder. Don’t turn it up.”

 

Viktor closed his eyes and just listened. He tried to picture Chris moving along the ice to this. It was a shy piece, He could picture the routine in his head, the story that it would tell. The story did not fit Chris. Viktor opened his eyes. Chris’ hand was still on his even as he slowly moved it away from the stereo. Chris took the wine glass from his other hand and set it aside. He took Viktor’s other hand slowly, his fingers brushing over Viktor’s knuckles as they made their way around to his palm. His thumb moved in a gentle stroke over Viktor’s fingers.

 

They swayed a little together as the music picked up in volume and in energy. The story was moving from timidity to something else, something that seemed desperate for something as yet undefined. Viktor moved a bit more. It was a dance they were doing in a way. He slid his hands up the inside of Chris’ arms then back down the outside of them. He moved so that their bodies were pressed flush against each other. They moved together, guiding each other with the subtlest of gestures.

 

Viktor ran one hand back up to cup the back of Chris’ head. They spun around in a slow circle. The music was coursing through him. The notes of the song were presented in quicker and quicker succession. They still moved slowly together. The song was no longer presenting a story of timidity, it was a song for one who knew what he wanted, but hadn’t made it known before. It was a song that begged the audience to see him, see him for who he was, what he was. Viktor could see the story, all of it as if the song had words sung out clear and loud.

 

Viktor leaned in and pressed his forehead to Chris’. Chris said, “You always saw me Viktor. The world, all of them…” His eyes looked off to the side like he could almost see the masses that he was speaking of. “They don’t see me, don’t see us. Sometimes you just want to find someone that really sees you, someone that can’t look away and doesn’t even want to.”

 

“I do see you.” Viktor’s words were a ghost of air between them. Chris moved a little, and maybe Viktor did too. Their lips came together softly as the song ended. It was quick and gentle, not like Viktor thought it would be. Chris always presented himself as a bit of a Don Juan, always looking for his next encounter. This was quite unexpected. They separated and Viktor went to the oven to turn over the steaks. They were coming along nicely. He turned over the potatoes too.

 

Chris set up another song and they passed the time dancing to that one too. It was another slow song that also ended in a kiss, this time a deeper one. They let the food finish cooking while they spent time together on the couch. Chris was not shy about what he wanted. Viktor considered what this would mean, if they went this route. They competed against each other. Surely, this could have an impact on that.

 

“Stop thinking so much,” Chris murmured around his ear as he kissed Viktor’s neck.

 

“I don’t want dinner to burn.”

 

“Let it burn.”

 

“It’s filets. We will not let them burn.” Chris moved back a little. “We are going to have a nice meal.”

 

“I’m losing my touch.”

 

“You’re touch is just fine. We are going to eat though.” Viktor looked off at the stove. “I’ve gotta think about all of this a little and food will help.”

 

“So will wine.”

 

“I doubt that, but we will definitely have more of that.”

 

They got up together and tended to the food. Viktor pulled the steaks to rest a bit before serving. Chris dressed the salad and moved it to the table. They both got the plates and settings for the table. When all was ready, they sat across from each other to eat. “To a most attractive host.” Chris raised his glass.

 

“To attractive company.” They clinked the glasses and drank. The food turned out quite good. Viktor thought about how it might be, coming home to someone like Chris, how it might be coming home to anyone. He felt the emptiness of his home now when he returned from his travels, and he was tired of the feeling. Chris felt like he could belong here, and he also felt like he didn’t too.

 

“It doesn’t have to change things.” Chris took a bite of his steak after he said it.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, if you just want this to be casual, it can be.” Viktor tried to see what it was that Chris was really saying. _What does he really want?_

 

“I don’t really know what I want. I know that I’m tired of coming back to this empty home. I am tired of feeling like I haven’t lived. I’m tired of feeling like I have no real choices. I’m locked into this life, and there’s nothing that excites me anymore.”

 

“If you let me, I might be able to help with that.” Chris got up then and reached out his hand to Viktor.

  
Viktor took his hand and got up. The dishes could wait. He let Chris lead him down the hall. He let Chris lead him back to the bedroom. He let Chris lead.


	6. Matchmaker

He woke up late, and his phone was making so much noise on the nightstand. He palmed it over to himself and looked at the screen, Yakov.

 

Viktor answered it. “Yakov. Good morning to you.” Chris’ arm around his waist pulled him closer. 

 

“What time is it Viktor?” Yakov sounded too calm.

 

Viktor pulled the phone away from his cheek and looked down at it, 8:30. “It is 8:30. I am late.” He said it all in a rather matter-of-fact tone.

 

“I gave you an extra hour, and you just take more.” He was getting louder with each word. Viktor held the phone away from his ear.

 

“I might need to get up and go in for a bit. He is not pleased.” Yakov’s voice was loud enough that it could be heard even now as Viktor held the phone a full arm’s length away.

 

“If you must,” Chris mumbled into his shoulder.

 

Viktor pulled the phone back to his ear and interrupted Yakov, who was still railing. “I will be there in a half an hour.”

 

“Two hours late!” Yakov wasn’t ready to stop yelling at him.

 

“I will have to hang up now and get ready.” He didn’t want to hang up on Yakov, but the yelling wasn’t getting him there any faster. He got up while Yakov continued to talk about responsibility and setting an example and how Yuri was already channeling his inner Viktor. 

 

Viktor decided to put him on speaker phone so he could get dressed and have his hands free. Chris watched him as he moved about the room. He looked predatory, like at any moment he’d spring at Viktor and the afternoon plans would be scrapped. Viktor got dressed faster. He couldn’t afford to have Yakov any more upset. Besides, he didn’t want to be rude, and this was a little rude. He rounded the bed and leaned down to Chris to leave a little peck on his forehead. Chris reached up and pulled him in for something more. Viktor broke the kiss, and whispered, “I’ll be back in a few hours. Eat my food and if you get bored, take Makkachin for a walk.” Chris gave him a little silent salute and Viktor scooped up his phone and rushed out.

 

* * *

 

Yakov made him skate the routine over and over. Viktor complied because he really did feel bad about not showing up. Plisetsky stood off to the side enjoying every minute of it. He was getting off easy. Today should have been about Yuri. He needed to work on his junior’s program. He only had a few more years to make a reputation for himself in this field. He had strength and stamina, but no discipline. 

 

_ Like me. _ He smiled at the thought, and that was a mistake. Yakov thought that he wasn’t taking the practice seriously. “Do it again! Everything looks mechanical.” A few more beats into the song and he was yelling again. “You need to feel the music!”

 

Viktor redoubled his efforts toward focus. He skated around the perimeter, preparing for a quad. Chris had just entered the rink with Makkachin at his side. He was trying not to draw attention to himself, but he did just enter their private arena with Viktor’s dog. Viktor leapt into the air and landed the most perfect quad of his day. He skated to a stop in front of Yakov. “It’s good.” It wasn’t really a question. He was just hoping that it was a good time to tell him that he was going home.

 

Yakov noticed Chris and Makkachin then. “What are you doing here?” He stormed over to him.

 

“Hello Yakov.” Makkachin popped his front paws up onto the rink wall. “Hello Viktor.” He was so happy looking and blissfully unaware of the very angry coach that was about to unleash his full venom on him.

 

“What do you think you are doing here?” 

 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just took Makkachin for a walk and figured Viktor could walk back with us.” He looked to Viktor now with something like an apology on his face.

 

Yakov turned to Viktor now. “Why is your primary competition standing in our rink with your dog?”

 

Viktor put his body between Yakov and Chris. “He is visiting.” He skated off the ice and sat at the nearby bench. He began taking off his skates.

 

“What are you doing? You still have another hour on the ice.”

 

“No, I’m heading home.” Viktor pulled his bag over so he could retrieve his shoes. “I’ll be back on Friday.”

 

Yakov made a bass drum of the rink wall. “You leave here and there will be consequences.” 

 

“I’ll see you Friday.” Viktor gave Yakov a nod. He turned to Chris then and added, “Ready to go?”

 

“Of course.” Viktor looped an arm around Chris’ shoulders and they walked out together. Chris handed off the leash to Viktor and Makkachin moved to his side. They didn’t look back at the others as they left. For all Viktor knew everyone was glaring daggers at his back. The door closed between them though, and Viktor felt a little extra energy in his steps as they walked out into the sunlight.

 

* * *

 

There was something about the newness of the connection. Viktor was sprawled out on the couch. Chris laid more on him than on the couch, his head pressed against Viktor’s chest. He was doing his level best to make Viktor forget about the way that things went at the end of practice today. Viktor appreciated the effort. “You’re thinking too much again,” Chris said.

 

“I’ve got a lot to think about.” He moved his hand to Chris’ head and ruffled up hair at the back of his head. 

 

“Let me distract you with idle chatter.” Chris tipped his head back a little and peered up at Viktor past deep dark lashes. Viktor smiled his acceptance and Chris said, “Tell me about a perfect day for Viktor Nikiforov. Something in the off-season.”

 

“So a day that doesn’t involve skating?” He cocked up a brow with the question.

 

“Yes, I’m endeavoring to avoid work talk.” Chris nuzzled in closer if that was possible. 

 

Viktor hummed out a contented little noise while he thought about what would constitute a perfect day for him. “I’m not sure I have an answer.” He brought his other hand up and laid it on Chris’ waist and soaked up the warmth there. “I suppose being home, but not alone. I think in the future it would be nice to come home and just be there with someone. I’ve never felt like that was possible here though.”

 

“Because of the country?”

 

“Yes, that, and the fact that I don’t give myself the leisure to find anyone to share a life with. When I am here, I’m training or getting caught up on unimportant things that languish when I’m too busy traveling and skating. The closest thing to an actual rest that I really get comes in the off-season, but even then it is not a mental rest. There is always planning and organizing for the season to come.”

 

“So your perfect day would be spent in your home, not thinking about the season.”

 

“With someone,” Viktor added, because the last part was important.

 

“With someone…” Chris reached up and cupped Viktor’s cheek. “Anyone in particular?”

 

“I’m not sure yet. Let me get back to you.” He smirked down at him.

 

Chris let him go with a tiny cheek tap meant to mimic a slap. “What if you had to have a perfect day outside of your home?”

 

“I like the ocean.”

 

“The beach?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He could feel Chris’ face crinkling up against his chest as he replied, “You mean with all the sand and tiny crawly creatures?”

 

Viktor sat up a little at this. He looked down at Chris. “Everyone likes the beach.”

 

“No, not everyone.” 

 

“No, everyone. Everyone likes the beach. It is programmed into us at birth. The soothing waves, the warm sun, the way the air smells so clean, it’s all too good to be anything but loved. Even the birds that might be annoying anywhere else with their harsh squawks, sound beautiful when they are soaring over the waves.”

 

“Beaches have crabs. They are the spiders of the oceans. Next you will tell me that you love spiders.” Chris was practically laughing as he said it. He scooped up his phone off of the nearby table and typed something into it. He held it out to Viktor. “Look at the crab, Viktor. Now tell me that’s not hideous.”

 

Viktor started laughing. It was a video of a crab brandishing knives. It was actually pretty funny. “That right there would make me want to go to the beach even more.”

 

“You are crazy. I blame Russia. All you Russians are crazy.” 

 

Viktor pulled him back to him. “Then I must assume that you won’t be taking me to the beach.” 

 

“That will have to be with your next…” He stopped and then continued, “hook-up.”

 

Viktor tipped his head a little to get a read on what Chris was saying. “Hook-up?” He had to question it. Chris practically begged him to question it with his pause and tone.

 

“Well, we never said this was anything more than that. No expectations.”

 

“Is that what you want?” Viktor was still watching for the tell, the thoughtful way he looked as he spoke. That would tell him more than the words.

 

“Perhaps. It’s not like we live in even remotely the same place. The long distance thing never works.”

 

Viktor hummed out another response. He ran his fingers through Chris’ hair again. “We are friends though, right?”

 

“Obviously.” Chris waited a beat and added, “With excellent benefits.” He pressed a kiss to Viktor’s chest.

 

Somehow this relieved him a little. Viktor had wondered how it would work. He worried that he’d made choices that would make everything awkward. He leaned down and kissed into his hair. “Tell me about your perfect day.” He added a few seconds later, “in the off-season.”

 

Chris seemed to be thinking about it. He was tracing little circles into Viktor’s side. He thought that Chris was imagining a routine with the way he moved his fingers in wide arcs.  _ Maybe that’s just me that can’t stop thinking about skating for five blessed minutes. _

 

“I’d travel somewhere new. I’d want to see as many different countries as I could in under twenty-four hours. I’d cap my day at a fine restaurant in Paris. I’d drink expensive champagne and find someone exceedingly attractive to drag me up to their immaculate apartment.”

 

“That sounds overwhelming.” Viktor just imagined all of the time he’d spent in planes, trains, busses, and cars over the course of the season. It was the last thing he’d want to do in the off-season.

 

“I like having a full day. I like being around a wide variety of people. I like being recognized in public. I like being seen. I like this life.”

 

“I like the quiet. It’s different what they see. Kind of like you were saying last night. They look at us but they don’t see us.” Viktor thought about that, and how true it was. It was something that really spoke to him and likely made him feel even more connected to Chris.

 

“It’s true. They don’t. I keep holding out hope that one of them will be different. I’ll never find that though, if I’m not out there. You might find that too if you start making time for living.” He rolled up on top of Viktor more and looked steadily into his eyes.

 

“Maybe when I retire. I’ll have more time for such things then.”

 

Chris just rolled his eyes. “You are too young for such talk.” He rolled his hips to make his point, whatever that was. Viktor had lost the thread of the conversation with the move. That actually may have been the point. 

 

“Come here.” He pulled him closer and kissed him, long and deep. He tasted clean like the mint toothpaste that he had used just before they had taken up residence on the couch. He smelled like he had used the woodsy smelling shampoo that was tucked onto the shelf in the shower. Viktor breathed him in. He tried to imagine the ocean. He tried to imagine the warm sun on his skin. He tried to drown in the little dream that his mind was creating. Chris wasn’t part of that dream though. He was a distraction. Viktor decided that for now he would dive into the distraction and let it take over.

 

* * *

 

Wednesday came and went. They made a point of accomplishing nothing that involved clothes. Thursday came and they made breakfast and coffee to recharge their energy back up to something that could be called productive. Viktor put his phone away after seeing that he had fifteen messages from Yakov; all of it was written in caps.

 

It would be their last day together before Chris had to fly home. Viktor felt the emptiness of his home already. It bothered him that he had let himself get use to this so easily. They were friends though and ill-suited to each other for anything more than this. He told himself that he just had to get through this season, and then he could make decisions. He could try a new country. He could take Makkachin to America, maybe. 

 

_ I could try Japan. It might be nice to try someplace that is a little closer. Yes, America is too far away. Japan is practically next door. _

 

“Penny for your thoughts.” Chris hugged him from behind.

 

“Just thinking of countries I’d like to visit after I retire.” He looked to Chris for a moment.

 

“You keep talking about retirement, and I’m going to have to start believing that you’re serious.” He laughed into the crook of Viktor’s neck.

 

“I am serious.” Chris just hummed into Viktor’s neck. It was a sound that said that he didn’t believe a word Viktor was saying. “I don’t know how many other ways I can say it.” He felt the weight slowly settling on his chest again. Perhaps it would always be there, reminding him that choices would have to be made, and that they’d have long-ranging consequences.

 

Chris must have noticed, because he hugged Viktor tighter. “Then I’ll have to do my best to remind you of the benefits that come with staying.”

 

“Benefits?”

 

“Yes, you won’t see nearly as much of me if you retire.” He let Viktor go and moved to the side. Viktor followed the move, appraising him with a seemingly critical eye. Chris turned to give him a view of all of his most impressive features. “How could you say no to seeing this with regularity?”

 

“I am an enigma.” He smiled. “I may have to stay in skating until I am a grey-haired old man.” He ran a hand up through his hair, perhaps to make a point.

 

“You are ridiculous, Viktor. Who could say no to this?” He did another little spin and then came back to Viktor’s arms.

 

“Well, you don’t like the beach.”

 

“That hardly matters.” He kissed him.

 

“If you say so,” Viktor said when the kiss came to an end. Chris kissed him again, so he couldn’t say anything more.

 

* * *

 

They stood in the entryway for awhile. Chris was flying out early enough that Viktor would have no excuses for showing up late to practice. “You have someone arranged to pick you up when you get back?”

 

“I have a driver. He's been assigned to me for years.” Chris leaned in and rested his head on Viktor's chest. 

 

“Must be nice to have that. We get whoever we get.”

 

“Sam's a good guy. Easy on the eyes too. Always reliable no matter when I call.” Chris got a dreamy little look in his eyes. 

 

“He travels to competitions with you, right?”

 

“Usually.”

 

Viktor remembered him, and he was more than a driver. “You're dating him, right?”

 

It was dark in the entryway with only a little light streaming in from the window above the door, and even that light was cast by the street lights. It was bright enough though for him to see the shift in Chris’ expression. Chris pushed him away with a look that was bordering on anger. “What kind of person so you think I am? Do you think I'd be here?” He waved his hands around a little frantically, then he continued. “I have more respect for my friends than that.”

 

Viktor reached out to him and gave his arm a little squeeze. “Sorry, I just thought that there was more there. The way he watches you, it's just…”

 

“He doesn't watch me,” Chris interrupted. He stooped down and picked up his bag. “I mean, he use to be an ice dancer, so he looks at the technicals of my performance, but he doesn’t watch me, not like that.” Viktor watched him just stand there a moment. There was more to this.

 

“So he gets paid to travel around to all the competitions with you.” 

 

“He’s on salary.” There was still a hint of the old irritation there, but it was fading. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry. I’m sorry. You touched a nerve.”

 

“What nerve?” Viktor leaned back into the wall and waited.

 

“He came to the last competition and we exchanged some words. Let’s just say that I may have to find another driver. I wouldn’t be surprised if he sends someone else to the airport to pick me up.”

 

“Sounds like more than an employee.” Viktor tried to make his comment without sounding too contradictory.

 

“He’s been my driver for years, not my employee. I’m not his boss. He just gets assigned to me. The other skaters get drivers too.” 

 

“I never see their drivers at the competitions. Sam must be quite dedicated.” Chris looked like he was going to reply but instead just stared at him. Viktor added, “Do they pay him extra for all of his travels, for the times he flies around the world for the competitions?”

 

“He’s on salary.” Chris’ response was quiet, a near whisper.

 

“The other skater’s drivers, are they on salary too?”

 

“I suppose. I don’t keep track of their drivers.” Chris’ words had a touch of the old irritation again.

 

“So he’d be paid the same whether or not he flew around to your competitions?”

 

Chris just stood there, like he was taking it all in, but didn’t know what to say. “Yes.”

 

Viktor just hummed at that and folded his arms in front of his chest. “What happened between you two at the competition?”

 

“I suppose a lot of things.” He looked away and began pacing the entryway. He stopped and ran his hand back up through his hair. “The first night, when we checked into the hotel, they lost the reservation that I had made for him. Sam was great about it, didn’t blame me, though he could have. He even said he’d just fly back home and pick me up when I was done.” Chris turned back to Viktor. He swept his hair back again. “Well, that seemed ridiculous. He was already there, so I told him to just share a room with me. They always gave me wonderful accommodations, plenty of room for two.”

 

Viktor interrupted him, “You sure you didn’t arrange this?”

 

“I really didn’t.” Chris looked sincere. “Regardless, he let me talk him into sharing the room. He’s something special, Viktor. He really is. I don’t think I wanted to admit that.” He sounded almost sad. “I freaked out a little. We were in that room for less than five minutes and I just bolted. Told him I was going out, and that I’d call him if I needed a ride later.”

 

“Why’d you do that?”

 

“He took off his coat.” Chris laughed a little. “He looked so comfortable. He was sitting on one of the beds, and he took off his coat. How was I going to be in that room with him, casually disrobing? I had to get out. I had to come back good and drunk so that the only thing I’d do is fall into that bed until morning.”

 

“Why didn’t you try just talking with him?”

 

“I told you he doesn’t feel like that where I’m concerned.”

 

“Why do you think that?” Viktor thought of the way Sam had been at all the competitions. He thought of the cheers that he yelled out at the end of every routine, the way that he looked like he was about to die every time Chris leapt into the air. He was gone, and it was obvious to everyone but Chris.

 

“He had a girlfriend when we first met.”

 

Viktor laughed a small laugh, but then he realized that Chris was serious. “Chris,” he smiled at him and cupped his cheek a moment. “They make this new thing called bi-sexuals now. Maybe he is one of them.”

 

“Wouldn’t matter if he was. I ruined everything.”

 

“What happened?” Viktor waited.

 

Chris took a deep breath. “I did go out. Got very drunk with the guys from Madrid. You know how they party.” Viktor nodded. “I didn’t make any lasting connections. I ended up out in an alley thinking I’d just stumble back to the hotel. But there was Sam, parked right outside the club. He was leaning up against the car like I’d called him there or something. I asked what he was doing there, and he said, driving my sorry ass back to the hotel. He was angry with me for having a good time. I asked how he found me. He said that he asked around, and came here to check on me.”

 

“He’s a good man,” Viktor offered.

 

“Well, I didn’t treat him like one. I told him I didn’t need a babysitter. He told me to get in the car. I didn’t. I just tried walking back on my own. He caught me as I nearly face-planted into the side of the road. He told me that I’d mess up my skating tomorrow if I didn’t let him drive me back.  He said it like he was disappointed in me. I got in the car, and he drove me back in silence.”

 

“Did you talk about it the next day?”

 

“No.”

 

“What about before you came here?”

 

“Well, I avoided him by going to the pool with you. He came to the bar that night, remember? Good looking guy at the bar. I tried talking to him then. I thought we were okay, but I don’t think we were. I got back to the room late after dropping you off at your room. He asked if I had fun with my friends. He asked how you were, of all people. I told him that I was going to extend my time here, and that I needed a vacation. I thought he might offer to stay too, drive me around or something. He didn’t. He just said, well hope you have a great time. He turned off the lights and left the next day. He didn’t even drive me to the airport.”

 

“Sounds like he was hoping for something, and I got in the way.” Viktor looked away back into the living room. “I’m sorry Chris. I had no idea.”

 

“You didn’t ruin this. I did. I maybe ruined two friendships this week. At least before, he’d seemed happy enough being around me. We talked. He understood me. He won’t even want to look at me when I get back. He’ll probably want to get reassigned to one of the other skaters.”

 

Viktor stopped him. “Call him.”

 

“No.” Viktor reached out to him and pulled him into a hug. It was really just a ploy to get his hands into Chris’ coat pockets where his phone likely was. He pulled it out and quickly typed in the lockscreen password that he’d seen Chris use a hundred times. “Viktor. Stop.”

 

Viktor looked at him then, really looked at him. “I’m going to call him and set things straight.” He swiped through the contacts. There were so many. There was only one Sam though, and luckily it came with a very clear picture of him. He couldn’t just call him though without Chris’ consent. “So if you really don’t want me to do this, just say the word, but before you do, let me just remind you that you said that you already ruined this. Me calling him, can’t possibly do anything more. So, what’ll it be, Chris. Can I call him?” 

 

Chris stopped fighting for the phone. He looked smaller somehow. The whispered word was almost too quiet for Viktor to hear. “Okay.” Viktor clicked the number and held the phone to his ear. Chris looked like he regretted everything the moment that he had said the word. The phone was already ringing in Viktor’s ear though. 

 

“Hello, Chris.” The voice on the phone was low as if he’d just woken up.

 

“Good morning, Sam. This is Viktor Nikiforov. I am calling for Chris.” He sounded too loud maybe. He did that when he was dealing with a potentially awkward situation. He overcompensated with excessive enthusiasm.

 

There was an entirely awkward silence for a moment, then Sam said, “So, you’re calling me from Chris’ phone because you want to talk to Chris? Sorry Mr. Nikiforov, but that doesn’t make a bit of sense.”

 

“Call me Viktor.” He swallowed past a nervous lump in his throat and continued. “I am calling you on behalf of Chris. He’s here, in my house.”

 

“Oh, why?”

 

“Because he is a bit of a fool, and he needs my help. You see, he did not realize that you were in love with him. I made sure to explain things to him.” Viktor saw the look of pure terror that washed over Chris’ face. There was no other way that this conversation could go, so Viktor really didn’t know why Chris was shocked.

 

Sam cleared his throat loudly and then started coughing. When things finally settled on his end he said, “I’m sorry Mr. Nikiforov…”

 

“Viktor,” he interrupted.

 

“Viktor,” Sam continued. “You are mistaken on that front. I work for Mr. Giacometti. He is not and has never been interested in me.” Viktor rolled his eyes. The denial was interesting. Viktor had said that Sam was in love with Chris, not the other way around. “So, if you don’t mind, I need to get going.”

 

“Wait.” He paused and hoped that Sam wasn’t going to hang up. “You’re very wrong. Why do you think he ran off that night at the competition?”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Chris was reaching for the phone. Viktor ducked away from him and moved further into the living room.

 

“You shared a room, and he ran off to party with the Madrid guys at that club.” He heard Sam hum out a little noise that sounded like encouragement. “Well, he only ran off because you took off your jacket and looked too good to him.”

 

“This is some kind of weird joke. Put Chris on the phone.”

 

“He’s in love with you, Sam.”

 

“Put Chris on the phone.”

 

“Why do you think he ran here. He thought he ruined his chances with you. Also, why would I, Viktor Nikiforov, call you? I have many things that I should be doing. What am I doing though? I’m calling you, and I’m telling you that my friend is undeniably, completely in love with you.” He could hear Sam’s breathing and all the ways that his words were hitting him. “I’m going to hand him the phone and he’s going to tell you himself. It’s important to know that he and I slept together too, but that doesn’t matter. We are not interested in each other beyond friendship.”

 

“Wait.”

 

“You should talk to him. I have already told you all of the important stuff.”

 

“But he slept with you. Why would he sleep with you if he was in love with me?”

 

Viktor laughed and said, “He’s Chris. Look at his life choices. He always runs off to some distraction or another when he doesn’t know what to do.”

 

“Is he coming home?”

 

“Yes, but here. Let me hand him the phone.” Viktor pushed the phone at Chris who took it. He slowly raised it to his ear. Viktor moved in close and settled his chin on Chris’ shoulder so he could listen too. Chris allowed this. Viktor could feel the nervousness coursing through him. He gave him a small squeeze of a hug and nodded into his shoulder to get him to speak.

 

“Sam.” It was interesting how different a nervous Chris sounded. Gone was his confidence, his overwhelming levels of charm. Stripped bare of all of that, there was just this man, worrying that he’d managed to ruin the one thing he’d wanted for likely some time. 

 

Sam’s voice came through the phone. “Is it true?”

 

And because he’s sometimes an idiot, Chris said, “Is what true?” Viktor squeezed him harder.

 

“What he said. Is it true?” Thankfully Sam wasn’t letting Chris off the hook.

 

“Yes.” His answer was small, but it was enough.

 

“So you did sleep with him.”

 

“Yes.” Chris managed the word even quieter this time.

 

“You ran off that night because I took off my jacket?”

 

“Yes.” 

 

“That's ridiculous.”

 

“I know.” Chris dipped his head as he responded. Viktor gave his arm a small stroke of affection.

 

“You went to Viktor because you thought that there was nothing here between us?”

 

“Yes,” Chris’ tone shifted a little. Viktor gave him another little squeeze. This time he meant it to feel encouraging.

 

“You’re in love with me?” Sam asked. There was still doubt in his tone, like he honestly couldn’t imagine that this was at all true. 

 

Thankfully, Chris wasn’t an idiot this time. “Yes.” Viktor could hear Sam sucking in a sharp breath as Chris answered.

 

“And you didn’t know that I am in love with you?” This question almost had the same tone as the last. It too was full of doubt. Clearly, Sam thought he’d been quite obvious.  _ Figures. _

 

Chris was just letting those words hover out in the ether. Viktor squeezed him again, another little encouraging hug. “You do?”

 

“Chris,” Sam managed to say the name like it was a long sigh. “I have followed you to every corner of the world. I’ve cheered your name from every arena, every sideline. I’ve answered my phone when you’ve called at noon, 1:00 am, or 3:00 in the afternoon, just because it’s you and sleep or a life outside of you apparently can wait. In fact, I’m not sure that I’ve been subtle about it. Remember when you made me stay at your place to watch that stupid movie.”

 

Chris interrupted him, “ _The_ _Notebook_ is not stupid.”

 

“No, Chris it is. It doesn’t matter that it made you cry. It is a horrible film.”

 

“Agree to disagree then.”

 

Sam laughed into the phone and continued, “Doesn’t matter. I’ll say it was the best film. You know why?”

 

“No.”

 

“You sat next to me. We drank our beers and ate popcorn. I held your hand. What did you think that meant?” Sam sounded a little exasperated.

 

“You said all that stuff earlier about friendship. I thought that you were making a point about us being the kinds of friends that held hands.”

 

“I was displaying the difference. I thought that you understood and rejected me.”

 

“I didn’t reject you.”

 

“Well, agree to disagree.” He laughed again. Sam continued, “It was the best night. I was watching a horrible movie, and I couldn’t care less. I got to hold your hand. It was everything. I’ve seen you dance off to one person after another, and I wanted to be each and every one of them. I also didn’t want to be any of them. You cast them off. I wanted you. Not for a night or for some passing thing. I wanted you to watch horrible movies with. I wanted you to be in my home when we weren’t running around the world chasing gold medals. I wanted you to want a different end to your days, an end that included me.”

 

“I do want that.” Chris had some of his old tone back. 

 

“Then come home to me.”

 

Chris sucked in a breath and said, “So you’ll pick me up at the airport?”

 

“Of course. It’ll be like every ridiculous movie that you likely love. I’ll sweep you up, and we’ll kiss. And if that goes well, we’ll go home together. And if that goes well, we’ll make a habit of this.”

 

“Sam.” There was reverence in the way he breathed out his name.

 

“Now get home. I’ll be waiting.”

 

Viktor stepped away. Chris murmured some things into the phone. Viktor stood in the entryway and waited. Chris finally hung up and walked back to his bag near the door. He stared at Viktor for a moment then pulled him into a rib crushing hug. “Call me later. I’ll be happy to hear how it all went.”

 

Chris kissed his cheek and laughed. “I think it is pretty obvious how it’s all going to go. I’m a lucky bastard. And you are a god, Viktor.” A vehicle honked outside. “Timing,” he laughed. “Sounds like my ride is here.” Viktor reached over and opened the door. Chris stepped out with his bag. Makkachin loped down the steps to the little patch of yard. “Goodbye for now Viktor.”

 

Viktor waved at him as he got into the car. As it drove away, Viktor watched. The car became smaller and smaller. Viktor sucked in a deep breath of the crisp winter air. He called Makkachin back inside. The sidewalks were covered in a thin blanket of snow. The sky was gray and would likely bring about another round of snow. 

 

Viktor decided in that moment that he'd run to the rink. He thought that it was maybe stupid. He really should take a car since it was going to snow again. 

 

The more he considered that though, the more he knew he had to run. He had to feel the burn of the air in his lungs. He had to feel the rush of the cold air on his face, and most of all he needed the whole wide world to be around him. He needed the vast expanse of it all, not the confinement of a car.

  
He returned to the house and got dressed for the run. He decided to leave Makkachin at home.  _ Wouldn't do to have her getting  all wet,  _ he reasoned. He slipped his headphones in and got his music set. He stepped back out into the world, and he ran through it.


	7. Something to Talk About

Viktor ran up the stairs into the rink. He was on time, which he hoped would help where Yakov was concerned. He wasn't too worried about the long term. They were close despite the way that it might seem to those on the outside. 

 

Yakov loved him in his own way. He loved all of his skaters. Viktor was special though, and Viktor knew it. Yakov had given him a home, security, kindness, a life. It had been hard for both of them when the time came for Viktor to move into his own place. 

 

He wondered sometimes if he should have stayed longer. Maybe then Lilia wouldn't have left Yakov. Viktor wondered if he should meddle some more in that. He made little comments to Lilia every chance he got. He made comments to Yakov too. They each spent too much time with their work, forgetting what it was too just be seen by each other. 

 

Viktor sighed and made his way into the dressing room to shed some of his clothes. Despite the snow outside and the ice inside, he was sweating from the run. 

 

He assumed that Yakov would be there on the ice just waiting for him. He wasn't. In fact, the whole place was quiet. He could see light coming from the back of the building where Yakov’s office was. He made his way to it. He pushed his way past the door that was slightly open to see Yakov sitting at his desk with paperwork in neat little stacks in front of him. There were things about Yakov’s office that were unkempt. The cabinets behind him had hidden piles of old paperwork on routines and memos from their sponsors. He had a terrarium filled with succulents that had seen better days. His actual desk though was neat and orderly.

 

Viktor took the seat in front of the desk and said, “Good morning, Yakov.” He did not paint his words in false bravado. He didn’t act like everything was good. There was something in the air that just told him that Yakov needed something different from him. He was willing to give him that.

 

Yakov finally looked up at him, really looked up at him. He took a moment to reply as if his, “Good morning, Viktor,” required an excess of thought.

 

“Are you okay?” Viktor finally asked.

 

“Is your friend still here?” Yakov folded his hands in front of him on the desk.

 

“Chris went home this morning.” Viktor leaned back into the seat to give off an air of the casual. He was concerned though. The tone that Yakov was using was too resigned, almost like something tragic had occurred. He’d be more comfortable if he’d just yell.

 

Yakov was usually easy to read. Viktor knew the many faces of Yakov. If he was just mad about disobedience or a lack of seriousness on the part of his skaters, he might turn a little red. The degree of his anger could be gauged by the throbbing of the vein in his forehead. If he was disappointed in one of his skaters, his brows would come together, and his mouth would become a fine downturned line. If he didn’t understand something, he’d wrinkle up his nose a little. His tone was different in these moments too. Everything had a note of a question to it, even the statements that were just statements and not questions at all.

 

In this moment though, Viktor wasn’t seeing just one of these tells on Yakov’s face. He was seeing more. He was seeing something he hadn’t seen in a long time. He was seeing sadness. He remembered the look after Lilia left him. He remembered the look when Sergei passed. Viktor had been a junior skater when Sergei had passed, but you don’t forget the little details that accompany such a thing.

 

When Yakov finally spoke, Viktor noted the underlying sadness that he had missed in his tone before. “I considered many options that aren’t available to me where you are concerned.” He wouldn’t look at Viktor while he spoke. It almost made it all more difficult. “You know though that I can do nothing, really. I can be angry. I can rail at you until I’m consumed by it all. It wouldn’t matter. You will do as you wish, and you will skate at the competitions.”

 

He fell silent a moment, and Viktor wondered if there was something he could say here to provide comfort.  _ He couldn’t just be mad about the missed practices _ , Viktor thought. He’d missed so many before. “I’m sorry, Yakov.” Viktor sounded sincere.

 

“You’re not. To be sorry would mean that you’d do things differently or that you recognized the problem. I imagine that you are sorry that I am upset, but that is not the same as being sorry for what you’ve done, what you always do. You’ll never get it. I don’t even know why I’m bothering.”

 

“Something else is bothering you then?” He asked because it had to be more than the missing of practices. “Normally we get past this sort of thing. Something else is upsetting you.”

 

“Viktor.” Yakov started then stopped.

 

“Talk to me Yakov.”

 

“It won’t change you.”

 

“Maybe that isn’t the point. Talk to me.” Viktor leaned forward and rested his hands on the desk.

 

Yakov finally looked at him. “You set a bad example for the others when you don’t come to practice, especially when they know that you are expected. Plisetsky is already a mirror image of you, so much brewing under his surface, and he is but a child. I worry what a handful he’ll be when he is your age.”

 

Viktor laughed at that, and that made Yakov smile briefly. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll mellow after puberty.”

 

Yakov’s smile faded a little. “You certainly didn’t. I worry about you Viktor.” 

 

Viktor processed that a little.  _ Did the conversation just shift into some very uncharted territory? _ “You don’t need to worry about me, Yakov. I’m fine.”

 

“For now maybe.” Yakov looked away from Viktor for a moment and said, “You don’t think about things. You always leap and believe that you’ll nail the landing. One of these days you’ll leap and you might not land like you planned.”

 

“I’m not sure that I’m following,” Viktor said. 

 

“It is always like this with you. You come home from competition and you say things to Lilia about things that you have no business commenting on, but that’s okay right. You’re Viktor. You can say and do whatever you wish. You want to tell her that she should get back together with me, well, sure do that. I’m sure that won’t add any strain to anyone in this situation.”

 

“This is about what I said to Lilia? I only said that you two should get back together. I kept my tone light. You two should be together too. I really don’t see why you ever let her get away.”

 

Yakov interrupted him, “See, there you go. You leap. You assume that you know the outcome, the reasons, everything. You know nothing, Viktor. You know nothing of what she is to me or why we ended. You know nothing of what has happened since then. What we are is for us to figure out. You have no business meddling.”

 

“I hardly see the harm in what I said.”

 

Yakov stood and Viktor could see his hands rolling into fists at his sides. “You might if you took the time to think about your actions. What you say, what you do and don’t do, matter. They all matter a great deal. And now you want to retire. You want to just give up. You haven’t even thought of what that could mean for someone like you. You compete and you win. This gives you certain freedoms. Freedoms that allow you to live as you want, spend your free time as you wish, with whomever you wish. You retire and then what happens? Do you leave? Do you coach? What becomes of the world famous Viktor Nikiforov when he isn’t a skater? Have you thought of any of that?” Yakov turned to him and added before Viktor could even answer, “Because I have thought of that, all of it. I’ve thought of what life could be for you, and I worry about you. You are like a son to me. It is tiring trying to do all of your thinking for you. I wish that you could for once just do a little of it for yourself, before the next leap.”

 

Yakov’s body seemed to sink a little under the burden of all that he had said. Viktor got up moved toward him. He stopped right in front of him. “I think of you like a father too. It’s why I’m such an ass to you.” He threw his arms around Yakov and hugged him. Yakov seemed shocked and didn’t hug him back at first. A moment passed and then another. Finally, Viktor felt Yakov hugging him back. “I will try to be better for the others. I’ll be here for the practices. I’ll show them how to be.” He let Yakov go a little. “I’ll still tell Lilia that she needs you, just like I’ll tell you that you need her. It is my right as your almost son to do so. Plus, it is true.”

 

Yakov let him go. “Viktor.”

 

Viktor interrupted him by continuing, “No. Saying something about this is important. I keep pushing because I care, because I want you both to be happy. I lived with you. I know what you can be. It’s the same with you. All this talk, it isn’t about me meddling in your life.”

 

“It isn’t?” Yakov wasn’t angry, but his tone was skeptical.

 

“It isn’t. I understand. I get it. I know you mean well too. You saw Chris, and you know me. We live in a stupid world, filled with stupid people. I can’t live by their rules, and I won’t. You are doomed to worry about me on that front, I suppose. I’m sorry about that. I won’t change though. It is also likely that I will get worse the older I get. I’ll care less and less about what people think about my life and love. I’ve put so much of my world on hold and for what? For some gold medals that belong just as much to Russia as they do to me. If I didn’t love what I do, I’d likely hate it.”

 

“I don’t understand.” Yakov reached out to him and settled his hand on Viktor’s arm.

 

“I win for them, and I am not what they want. Slap my face on a poster. Sell me to the masses, but God forbid I might not be the man that they are selling to the people. I’ve done enough, Yakov. I’m tired. Some days I’m even bored. I’m looking for anything, anything that’ll excite me again. It’s crushing me. Maybe if I retire, I can remember what it is to love this again before I hate it.”

 

Yakov reached up and cupped his cheek in his hand. It was a tender move, entirely unexpected too. “I won’t be happy if you retire. However, it is important that you know this. No matter what you choose to do, no matter how angry I get, it won’t change what you mean to me. It won’t change what you mean to Lilia.”

 

The look in Yakov’s eyes said more. Viktor said, “Well, I haven’t made any decisions yet.”

 

“You have. It’s why I’m worried.” He pulled Viktor into a quick hug then let him go. “Enough of this.” He moved past Viktor for the door. “You are out of practice from all of the time you spent fraternizing with the enemy. Lace up and get on the ice.” His tone was suddenly rough, but he was far from angry. It was a facade to cover the moment. Viktor smiled at his back as he departed, then followed him out.


	8. Heading to the Grand Prix Final

The week passed and Viktor ran his routines more times than he could count. Yakov was more drill sergeant than coach in those days. It was necessary for Georgi, for Yuri, and for Mila. They needed to see what dedication was expected of them if they were ever going to win gold. At one point Yakov even left the entire practice in Viktor’s hands while he took care of errands outside of the rink. Viktor wondered if it was some sort of an effort toward getting him reinvested in everything. These efforts, although they made things feel fresh and new, were not going to be enough for the long haul, but they were good in the moment.

 

Georgi was the more difficult of the two. It wasn’t that he lacked talent. In that he was fine enough. Every five minutes though he was skating off to the edge of the rink to check his phone for messages. He understood now why Yakov’s constant mantra with him was, _focus._ It became Viktor’s mantra too.

 

He worked with Mila next. She had a grace to her movements that made Viktor think of water. Her arms trailed after her as she rounded the far end of the rink, preparing for her first jump. Her landing was smooth and lead to a double toe loop. He wanted her to work on increasing her height. If she could do that, she might just be perfect. Much like Georgi though, she had issues with focus. It was different though. She focused on all the other skaters. When it was just her on the ice, she was fine, but add competitors and the distraction was too much. It became a detrimental stream of comparisons. Sometimes even in practice, she’d psyche herself out of a solid performance.

 

Then there was Yuri Plisetsky. He skated right up to Viktor like he was already irritated and had far better things to be doing. Viktor just looked at him, appraising his height and overall appearance. “Well?” Yuri practically spat out.

 

“I don’t know. I’m considering what you are capable of. Give me a moment.” Viktor skated around him once, still looking him over.

 

“You want me to skate. You won’t know what I can do by watching me stand.” He sounded like he was done with just about everything. Viktor had to stifle a laugh. He never felt like he identified with anyone so much as he did this little surly child. Since he didn’t respond right away to Yuri’s outburst, the child added, “You’ve seen my routine. You know already what I’m capable of.”

 

“I do, but you are young, and you change a lot, every day.” Viktor stopped in front of him. He scooped up his chin and looked at his face a bit. “Even this, your child face, will take on more of a hardened edge with all of the scowling you do. You will need a routine that plays to what you are now, and also what you can become.” He let Yuri go and added, “Show me your routine.”

 

Yuri skated away to the center of the ice. Viktor moved off the rink. The music began and he watched Yuri move through the complex components. He landed every jump, sped through every spin. He was fast, and impressive. At the end, he skated past Viktor with a look that bordered on a smirk and he added a final jump to his program that wasn’t there before. He landed it, a quad. He moved from it gracefully into a final spin and the music ended. Viktor tried to curb his surprise. It wouldn’t do to have Yuri getting full of himself just yet.

 

He skated over to the side of the rink to Viktor, looking smug. “Well?” He waited for the praise that he knew he had earned.

 

Viktor just looked at him. He raised a finger to his temple and tapped like he was really thinking about it all. He looked back out at the ice and said, “I remember when I was your age. I had a few quads in my program too.” He smiled at the way that his words seemed to bring Yuri back down to earth. His expression shifted from one of pride to something bordering on frustration.

 

“It was impressive, and you know it.” He turned away from Viktor.

 

“It was, for now, but you are young. You need to save some things for later. You throw everything into these first routines and you won’t last. You throw in some jumps like that in the second half of your program and, yeah, they’re impressive, but if you don’t have the stamina for it, you’ll wind up hurting yourself. You have to be somewhat careful about what you give to this profession early on, so that you still have something to give later.”

 

“You do quads all the time.”

 

“I know, and you will too. Who made your routine?” He gave Yuri his full attention now.

 

“I don’t know. One of the hired choreographers most likely.” Yuri skated a little circle in front of him, and for a moment he looked like the kid he was.

 

“I think that is part of the problem. Your quad at the end doesn’t fit the routine. It is a good quad, but you can’t force it in where it doesn’t fit.” Viktor leaned into the rink wall and said, “Now let me see it again without the quad. Pay attention to your footwork. It needs much more attention than your jumps.”

 

Yuri almost looked like he was sulking now as he made his way out to the center, but he did as he was told. It was perhaps a more successful moment than Yakov had had with him this year, and Viktor felt good for having gotten this much.

 

* * *

 

Winter was hard. The snows that fell on St. Petersburg made the morning runs and even the smallest of walks with Makkachin almost impossible. They found little ways to get out of the house together. It was usually just the two of them making a mad dash down to the tiny yard just outside so that Makkachin could do her business and then quickly go back into the warm house. Viktor had a hired car that would come by and pick him up each day to take him the short distance to the rink. It was rough.

 

It was for that reason that he somewhat longed for the escape that would come from the next competition. When it finally came time to travel he felt lighter somehow. He was looking forward to a world that wasn’t buried under several feet of white. He gathered up all of Makkachin’s items and prepared to make the too long journey down the street to Lilia’s home. It was difficult convincing Makkachin to come out into the cold world.

 

Trudging through the snow was miserable, but they finally got to Lilia’s house. He knocked on the door a little roughly. Lilia opened the door and ushered them both in. It was normal for her to just take Makkachin and with just a few words send Viktor on his way. It was clear though that he needed to warm up before venturing back out toward his home. “Here, stand by the heater.” She physically moved him down the hall a little then bent down to dry off Makkachin with a towel that she already had in hand. “Don’t get any water anywhere else. Just stand there.” It wasn’t clear if she was talking to him or to Makkachin. Regardless Viktor stayed put.

 

“How’ve you been?” He finally stopped shivering enough to ask.

 

“I’ve been good. The snow is keeping me from the studio, but it is perhaps nice every now and then to be forced into having a break.” She stood again and waved Makkachin off to the kitchen. It was odd that Makkachin actually went. Viktor thought that perhaps everyone just sort of felt the need to obey Lilia.

 

“Did you talk with Yakov a bit about this trip?” It was Viktor’s subtle way of discovering whether or not they were making any efforts at a reconciliation.

 

“He stopped by the other night for dinner. We discussed the timeline for the trip and when you’d be back.” She leaned into the wall across from him. “There’s a towel behind you.” Viktor turned and saw the towel.

 

“So dinner huh?” He tried not to look too pleased, but that was impossible.

 

“Yakov told me that you’d been meddling again. You will stop now.” She carefully hung her towel on the doorknob next to her. “He told me that you’ve been helping Yuri. This is good, what you’re doing.”

 

“He has a lot of potential.” Viktor was looking for a path back to Yakov and Lilia’s dinner.

 

“He does, and Yakov needs you to help him get that boy there. Yuri looks up to you. He’ll follow your path. Make sure that you lead him down the right one.”

 

“And dinner with Yakov,” Viktor just decided to take the dive into the subject. “You’ll do that again when we return?”

 

“That is not something that concerns you.” She pushed off the wall and looked like she was going to direct him to the door. She stopped though, and said, “You do understand that it wasn’t your fault? You did not cause this. You do not need to fix anything where Yakov and I are concerned.”

 

He thought about that, had thought about it before and likely would forever. He heard her now, but it hardly changed what he knew. He was a piece of the puzzle. He’d lived with them so long that when he left their home, even though it was barely like leaving given the proximity, they didn’t know what to do with the silences, the odd emptiness that settles into a place that use to feel full. He missed the way it was before with them, and he also didn’t. He liked the independence that came from having his own place even if it was sometimes lonely. He liked feeling like it was his.

 

He took her hand and said, “I still want to help you both fix it. I feel like everything is just a little off now, without you two collaborating against all of us.” He hoped his tone was light enough to make this okay.

 

She gave his hand a little squeeze. “Yakov and I will always conspire against you. It is in our nature to do so, and our divorce won’t change that.” She leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Now go win Yakov another gold medal, so he can come over and brag to me over dinner.”

 

“So you will have him over for dinner again?” He smiled and she dropped his hand.

 

“Go now. No meddling. Do what Yakov says. Don’t be late to things.” Her instructions were delivered as she directed him toward the door. He stepped back out into the cold and gave her one last wave as he left. There was a tenderness in the look that she gave him. A rare smile brightened her features. “Have fun, _dorogoy_.” He felt warmth settle over him as she uttered the words. It was nice to be dear to someone.

 

* * *

 

The journey to Moscow was not painfully difficult and neither was the competition. Viktor performed flawlessly. When he finished his short program, all he could hear was the dull roar of the crowd. He gave them a small smile that reached to his eyes. He bowed and gracefully skated off the ice. Yakov sat alongside him as they waited for his scores. Things had changed between them since the conversation in the office. Viktor felt that it was something like progress with them. Viktor thought that maybe Yakov would finally be able to accept it if he did in fact retire.

 

The scores were displayed, and Yakov laid a hand on his knee, giving it a little squeeze. “Good job, my boy.” He was all smiles and Viktor felt bad for even thinking of retiring. _There’s no way that he would accept this._ The pressure in his chest grew in that moment. _I’m being selfish. How can I do this to him?_ He painted happiness onto his face as the cameras were aimed at him. He kept up the appearances as he waved to the nearby crowds and headed out of the arena. Yakov walked out with him, his hand on Viktor’s shoulder.

 

There were interviews and well-wishes. He breezed through it all. The journey back to the hotel later felt like it took a lifetime. He parted from everyone with promises that he wouldn’t be late to the morning warm-ups. Yakov actually looked like he believed him.

 

The door to the hotel room closed behind him with a click that felt like something close to the end of the world. He didn’t bother turning on the lights. He moved to the bed that was easy enough to find in the dark. He tossed himself down onto it and closed his eyes. His mind wouldn’t let him sleep, but the pressure that was building, building inside him, wouldn’t let him do anything else.

 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and rolled onto his back. He opened his browser and went to his bookmarked videos. He found one of Yuri Katsuki. He’d watched this one several times, and it always seemed to soothe him. There was beauty in what Yuri did on the ice, even if he was inconsistent. Viktor played the video and rolled onto his side, propping up the phone on his pillow right in front of him.

 

The music was a violin piece, slow and melancholy. It did not show off Yuri’s abilities with regards to his step sequence. Viktor had seen other videos of Yuri, and his speed and ability with regards to complex pieces was impressive. The program wasn’t bad though. It was meant, instead, to highlight his grace. His triple at the start of the program felt natural and had great height. Viktor’s thumb rested on the side of the phone and ran back and forth over the edge of it with something like affection. “Yuri, how have I never seen you before?” Viktor whispered out into the dark room. Yuri was moving into a spin. His arm held high and body bent over into an impressive arc, he spun with such speed that he soon became just a blur of colors.

 

“You have to make it to the Grand Prix Final.” Viktor had been harboring this hope since first seeing him on the ice all those weeks ago. He had imagined the many ways that he’d initiate some form of conversation. He thought of just playing to his strengths. He was confident, so it should be easy to approach him. Viktor remembered how he’d managed to fail at this before though and sighed.

 

 _Why is this hard?_ He thought of the million or so times that he’d approached others. He thought of all of the times that fans or even just competitors, who were also fans he supposed, approached him. Meeting people practically happened without a thought when he wasn’t seeking it out. This though, this felt different. He wanted Yuri to see him, really see him. He had imagined who he was and all of his imaginings seemed to stem from the small moment in the hall all the way to his routine at the competition. He filled in the gaps with videos that he had found of rare interviews that Yuri had done over the past year. He was timid and at the same time warm. _He has kind eyes._

 

Viktor rolled his head back and stared up into the dark at the ceiling. He worried about how much he was focused on Yuri lately. _Is it all a distraction from retirement or the skating?_ At the same time, he did not think that what he was seeing in Yuri was merely imagined. He was reading who he was in those interviews and in the way that he skated. It felt like truth. And in some ways he saw in Yuri’s skating something that he missed, a sort of single-minded connectedness to the music and the ice that he had when he first started.

 

The night grew long, and eventually he closed his eyes to sleep. In the morning he’d win his free skate. He’d stand at the center of the podium. He’d be heading to the Grand Prix Final. He believed that Yuri would be there too, and that gave him reason to have at least some warmth in his chest as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 

They would ask him in every interview what his future plans were. It was almost like they wanted him to retire. They seemed to crave the drama of it. Viktor would usually just smile and say, “I still have to make some decisions. You’ll know when I do.” He was casual about it all in public, but Yakov could see the way the wind blew. He could see the changes in Viktor but didn’t speak of it when they were heading to Sochi for the Grand Prix Final.

 

They sat together on the plane, but Yakov didn’t speak of his worries then either. They even got to the hotel, and he didn’t say a word. Viktor made his way down the hall to his room, and Yakov walked at his side. He raised a hand to his arm and said, “You’ll tell me if you decide to retire?”

 

“Of course, Yakov.” He stopped and turned to give him his undivided attention.

 

“I mean that you’ll tell me before making some grand spectacle of yourself in an interview or something?”

 

“Oh, of course, Yakov. I honestly don’t know what I’ll do yet. I need to just get through the season and then maybe I can figure out the rest.”

 

“Yes, that you do. I have thought about it all Viktor, and you easily have another five years in you. You have only the one injury, and that has done nothing to your abilities.”

 

“You say that, but I don’t have the stamina of the younger skaters. It won’t be long before they overtake me. I should go out on top.” Viktor looked down the hall. The elevator opened and some skaters noisily spilled out. He decided to give Yakov a quick hug. He hated when Viktor did this, and Viktor knew it. He did it anyway because he also knew that he appreciated the affection in his own way. “I promise that you will be a part of my decision, whatever it is. In the end though, I have to do what is right for me. I hope you’ll understand.”

 

“I will never understand quitting when you have the world firmly in your grasp.” Yakov turned to see the skaters hovering at the end of the hall. He seemed to realize that their conversation was being listened to and fully noted. “It is good that you are not actually considering leaving skating. I feel sorry for the other coaches that have to worry about such things.”

 

Viktor glanced down the hall and picked up on the conversational shift. “I’ll see you at the rink for warm-ups.”

  
“Rest well.” With that Yakov turned on his heel and left. Viktor went into his room, to rest and to find his focus.


	9. On Love

The days before the GPF this year had been a whirlwind of activity. Yuri Plisetsky would skate for the last time as a junior and there was a bit of a fuss about getting him ready. Viktor helped where he could. He also set up Makkachin’s stay with Lilia. 

 

That had been the most interesting. She had beckoned him into the house when he arrived with Makkachin. He had a few hours before he had to head to the airport. She seemed to know this and invited him into the dining room for tea. “I spoke with Yakov last night about the GPF. He said that you keep talking of retirement.”

 

Viktor took a seat as she busied herself at the stove with a kettle. “I am old Lilia. I think it might be time.” She glanced back at him a moment then pulled down some mugs from a cabinet.

 

“I understand,” she said. It wasn’t agreement. Viktor smiled a bit as she said it. “Yakov will never accept it. He does not understand why someone with your talent would ever quit. He doesn’t understand how difficult it is to just keep doing the same thing without ever changing.”

 

“Are we talking about me or you two?” Viktor couldn’t help himself.

 

“Maybe both.” Viktor’s eyebrow shot up with her admission. The kettle whistled, and she poured the water into the mugs. She brought them over to the table and set them down. “With Yakov, it was never that we’d grown tired of each other. It was something else. It was the way we neglected the parts of a relationship that grow in the spaces in between.” She pushed the cream and sugar containers to the middle of the table.

 

“I don’t understand.” Viktor glanced down at the tea that was still steeping in the mug, slowly changing the water brown.

 

Her lips curled up into a rare smile. “I don’t expect that you would. You’ve always been a bit like us, Viktor. I suppose it is only natural that you would adopt some of our characteristics, seeing as you lived with us, spent so much time in our company.”

 

Viktor laughed, “You make it sound like it was a bad thing.”

 

“No, it wasn’t. I look back at that time with fondness.” She traced the edge of the mug with her fingers as she continued, “We neglected some things, Yakov and I, when we were married.”

 

“What things?” Viktor asked.

 

“Life.” She pulled out the tea strainer and set it aside. “We lived only for you and our students. We did not cultivate a life that was separate from that. Our interactions had a singular focus. When you moved out, we found that talk was only of our work.” She seemed to notice the shift in Viktor’s posture and read into it saying, “Like I said before, Viktor, you are not to blame for that.”

 

“I have a hard time believing that.”

 

“Stop.” She reached out and settled a hand on his. “I’m telling you this for a reason. Try to keep up.” She let him go and seemed to focus on adding milk and sugar to her tea. Viktor did the same with his own. “He spent so much time at the arena, and I spent more time at the studio. I missed him. I do not think that he missed me.”

 

Now Viktor reached out to her. He set a hand on hers, and she did not retreat. “He did, and he does.”

 

“It is kind of you to say so.”

 

“Lilia, I see it in him, the longing, the missing. He hasn’t been the same. He’d come running back to you if you let him.”

 

“Oh, I do know that.” She laughed a little mirthless laugh. “He never wanted the divorce. I asked for that, as I’m sure you know. He fought me on it. He just didn’t fight well. It was as if he didn’t want a divorce because it felt like quitting or failing. That isn’t a reason to stay with someone.”

 

“It is more than that.”

 

She took her hand from under Viktor’s, and she lifted her mug to her lips. “It is too late for us to fix the past. He may have wanted to stay, but back then he did not make it clear why. Leaving was the right thing. He did, for his part, ask me to take him back. I said no. If there was ever a chance of us changing things, I have made sure to crush it down into dust each and every time.”

 

“Why?” Viktor felt his heart pounding in his chest.

 

“We each deserve to be loved and respected. You don’t stay with someone merely out of duty or habit. He was my first and deepest love. I lived for him. He saw me on the stage, dancing when I was 19. I was young, so young then. He pursued me. I never knew what it was to be so desired. I married him the moment he asked me. I kept dancing. He kept skating. We each lived in our own separate worlds, yet at the end of each day, we came to each other. Did he ever tell you about his last season?”

 

The last sentence threw Viktor a little. It was tangential to the thread she seemed to be on. He also couldn’t seem to see where all this was going. “I know he won the World Championship that year.”

 

“That he did.” She took another drink from her mug. “And do you know about my last performance?”

 

“You performed in  _ La Bayadare.” _ Viktor sounded like he was guessing.

 

“Yes.” She set down her mug again. “It was to be the last performance as we wished to have children. The intensity of training that goes into what I do, does not make for good family building. I had to retire. I was at the top of my career. Yakov and I were happy though. We were in love. I retired, and he continued to skate. He won and won and won. He was not like you. Not everything was gold, but he was happy, and I was happy.”

 

Viktor saw the shift in her features; a certain sadness seemed to wash over her. “But you never had children.”

 

“We had many children, just not in the way we had planned.” She looked up at him and gave him a look that was almost sympathy. “At least that was how I saw it. We took in our first skater, and we watched him grow into something fierce. He moved on a year later, but it helped to have that distraction from my failure.”

 

Viktor got up and moved to her side of the table. “You did not fail.” He pulled her into a hug. She let him. “You were more a mother to me than I ever thought I’d have, more of a friend too.” He pulled back a little but didn’t let go. A lone tear slipped from her eye and rolled down to her chin.

 

She pushed him away a little. “Go, sit back down. Drink your tea.” Viktor let her go and did as he was told. “I’m not telling you this because I need sympathy. It was long ago, and it helps to know why Yakov does what he does.”

 

“He never believed that you failed.” Viktor said it with conviction.

 

“I know that. It didn’t make it any easier. I still needed to fill my days though. The doctors told me I would never have a child. Something they explained with a lot of medical terms. It doesn’t matter now, but that set me on a different path. I opened the studio. I couldn’t go back to the old life. My retirement was a spectacle. Lilia Baranovskya retires to start family. Going back would be an ever present reminder of what I gave up and what I didn’t gain.”

 

Viktor wondered if this was why Yakov retired. “You make a difference, you and Yakov both. I wouldn’t be here like this if it weren’t for the two of you.”

 

“You mean a great deal to both of us. You aren’t just a student. You remember when I first started teaching you ballet?”

 

He did. She guided him through the dances. She lifted his leg up to the sky, past anything reasonable. “I remember.”

 

“You were the most beautiful dancer I’d ever seen. You had so much grace, still do. You reminded me what it was to feel so connected to the music, to the movements that would also draw in the audience. Seeing you perform was a joy.”

 

“I was so afraid of disappointing you,” he said, “more than Yakov.”

 

She laughed, “Good, and you never did.”

 

“Even now?”

 

“You never will be a disappointment Viktor. You are my boy. Mine and Yakov’s. You saved us. You reminded us what it was to love something so much that the world is all dim and faded around it.” She folded her hands in front of her. “When Yakov left skating, it was after the win at the World Championship. He was feeling his age that year. His injuries reminded him each morning when he’d get up just how much pain a man could endure if he were stupid enough to keep on pushing himself. I wanted him to retire. I even begged for it. When he won, he finally felt like he could.”

 

“It was controversial though, if I remember right.”

 

“It was. He never told anyone in his interviews or anything. He never told them how much pain he was in. He’d blown out his knees. He’d recovered from broken bones. They never considered how bad it had been, and he did not share those details. He was proud. When he left, they all complained. It was in the newspapers.  _ How could he retire? How could he do this to Russia? There is no one to take his place... _ They went on and on like that for months. He decided to coach to attempt making up for the void he left in his wake.”

 

“That was when you also started taking in skaters?”

 

“Not right away. They had families that wanted to be close to them. Alexei came to us first. He was a good boy. He stayed for a year, then he left. Yakov worked tirelessly with him, just to have him sent to another coach a year later. It was difficult. His parents were demanding.”

 

“He did well from what I recall.”   
  


“He did. It was difficult for Yakov. He felt like he failed. He didn’t, but he felt it none the less. We can’t control what we feel in such situations. He thought that if he just devoted more time to the skaters in his care...Well, you know how he is now. It started then.”

 

“And you?” Viktor asked.

 

“I spent more time with my students. My studio was a popular place. Everyone wanted their children trained by one of the most famous of Russia’s ballerinas.”

 

“And you kept working with Yakov’s students too?”

 

“No. I worked a little with Alexei, but there were others that he never sent to me. I think he felt like I should only get the best of his students, and for a time, he did not have much faith in their abilities. He did not always get the top students. He languished away for many years before we took in Sergei. I worked with him.”

 

“He won at the GPF and the World.” Viktor remembered following the efforts of Sergei in his youth. He was already a skater and had managed to collect every scrap of knowledge he could find on his idol.

 

“Yes, Sergei was talented and a joy to watch. He moved with such grace. He felt the music. He knew what it was to be truly within the moment. When we lost him, Yakov was devastated. I think it was worse than learning that he’d never be a father. He shut himself in our office for days after the funeral. I couldn’t get him to come out. We eventually had to get someone to pick the lock.”

 

“I was young then, but I remember how everyone felt the loss. If I remember right they even closed some of the local schools early.” Viktor remembered much about the death of Sergei. He remembered shedding his own tears for the loss of his idol. He remembered seeing Yakov on the news and how utterly devastated he looked.

 

“He loved him like a son. We both did. He’d lived with us for years and then in an instant he was just gone.” Another tear fell from her eye to her chin and down to the table. 

 

“And then you took me in.” Viktor remembered it all. He remembered the serendipity of it. He was skating in a minor competition. He had skated to a Shostakovich piece. It was ridiculous to do so. The song was too complex for someone with his level of experience. Yet it was what caused Lilia to notice him. She approached him after the routine and asked to speak with his coach. 

 

“It took some time to make the arrangements, but you were worth every effort.”

 

“I know it was harder given my situation. You’d think lacking parents would make it all easy.”

 

“I know. It is one of life’s great mysteries how our country can manage to make the simple so complex. Bureaucracy. In the end though, you were ours. It is all that matters.” 

 

“Well, it wasn’t so simple as that. I remember Yakov back then. You had to deal with quite a bit on my behalf.”

 

“He was not pleased with me. He said I was replacing Sergei. I was and I wasn’t. You are not Sergei.”

 

“I know.” Viktor didn’t mean to let the sadness creep into his voice at that small admission. Sergei was everything to them. Losing him was losing the world.”

 

“You are not Sergei,” she repeated. “You are more. We loved you with everything we had, and we always will, no matter what you do.” His head snapped up at that. He knew they loved him, but not that he was ever in the category that Sergei held. His passing gave him a level of sainthood that no one could ever compete with. “When Yakov finally managed to see past his grief, it was you that got him there. You made him remember what it was to feel joy. I remember when he finally started taking you to the ice.”

 

“He was harsh from the first day.” They both laughed at that. “It is funny what endears us to the old man.”

 

“Yes, it certainly is.” Lilia looked wistful for a moment. “We fell into patterns then. Our lives were devoted to our students. We poured a lot of ourselves into you, into your training. We loved you very much.”

 

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

 

“When you eventually moved out, it was right. You needed to be an adult, to have your life. It will be easier for Yakov in the long run to eventually not be your coach because of this. You have eased him into his new roles. I will need to help him find a distraction when you leave again.” Her fingers drummed the table.

 

“It won’t be as easy now that you don’t live together,” Viktor was not subtle.

 

“Perhaps that can be remedied.” Her lip curled up into a half grin.

 

“What are you saying?” He dared not hope.

 

“I’m saying that with a bit of cunning on my part, I might be able to help him remember how it felt to slowly fall in love with someone. He is angry and bitter. He doesn’t understand why I left him. I can’t explain it to him in any new way. He has to come to the conclusion on his own. I can just help direct his course.”

 

“Oh, Lilia, I will help in every possible way. Tell me what to do.”

 

“Absolutely nothing. You meddling makes everything worse. You doing anything, makes everything worse. It is the only reason I’m being honest with you now.” 

 

“Well, what do you want me to do? Should I just be silent on the subject of a reconciliation?”

 

“Yes and no. He has come to expect some level of meddling on your part. Just do what you always do. Subtle efforts are fine. Don’t say a word about this conversation.”

 

“Of course.” Viktor nodded as he spoke.

 

“Also, it will hurt him when you retire, because he loves you. He never understands why a person would quit. He views it as the sort of thing you do when you are hurting. He doesn’t like to think of you hurting. Even my retirement is connected to painful memories and realities. He wants more for you than that.”

 

Viktor understood now. He understood a great deal. “How do I make this easier for him?”

 

“You don’t. You can neglect only so much Viktor. You’ve neglected a life outside of skating for some time. You need to know what there is for you beyond this world, because it is a fleeting thing. When it is gone, when your knees fail you, when you lose the love of it, what will be left?” She took his hand again. “And there is love too. It is out there for you if you just take half a second to pursue it.”

 

“So, if I do, if I leave this, you think he’ll forgive me?”

 

Lilia squeezed his hand a little. “He won’t even be mad though he’ll put on a great show of it for lack of being able to show what he really feels. He worries for you. He just doesn’t know how to be what you need. It’s up to us to show him the way.” She got up then and Viktor did too. She walked him to the door and gave him a hug. “Take good care of him at the GPF. Be on time, and don’t forget to help him with that angry little boy he’s been training.”

 

“Yuri?”

 

“Is there another?”

 

They both laughed. “I guess not,” Viktor said. 

 

“Make the most of your last events together. It will be different between you both when you leave it. It will be hard for him.”

 

“I’ll do my best. Let me know when I can meddle more fully.” 

 

She laughed at him again and leaned in close. She kissed his cheek and gave his arm a quick pat. “Win a few more gold medals for us darling before you go.” 

 

“I will.” He kissed her cheek too and then found himself bounding down the steps and to the sidewalk. He’d carry her wishes with him to the competition. He’d carry her wishes maybe even beyond that to a life that he could imagine, a life that he’d neglected for far too long.


	10. Just Say Anything

Viktor had every intention of keeping his focus on the GPF, his last GPF. He would focus entirely on the routines, the winning. It would be for Yakov. It would be for Lilia. They asked for so little from him over the years. He could give them this. There would be time later for other thoughts, other desires and considerations.

 

Then he saw Yuri Katsuki.

 

He was just walking through the hotel, seemingly on his way to his room. It had been long enough that Viktor shouldn’t have spotted him so easily. After all they hadn’t exactly spent time together or anything. Viktor had watched nearly a million hours of videos though, featuring the skater, so there was that.

 

He looked different than he had at the last competition. He’d put on some weight. Viktor watched him as he made his way all the way to the elevator.  _ So you did make it to the GPF Yuri.  _ He shook his head as he thought it. He didn’t need this distraction.

 

Tomorrow would be the short program. He was ready for it too. There would be time enough after the competition to approach Yuri. He’d thought of what he’d say and how he’d say it. It wasn’t like him to feel anxious about such things. He was though. He retreated to his room once Yakov finished registering for their stay. Yakov even followed him up. He thought of what Lilia had said. He put on the best facade he had.  _ Let Yakov enjoy this, _ he told himself.

 

* * *

 

Viktor met up with Yakov on the way to the rink. He looked distracted. He’d just gotten off his phone. He slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Trouble at home?” Viktor asked. 

 

Yakov smoothed back his hair and replaced his hat. He hummed a non-committal response. “I don’t know if I should share.”

 

Viktor’s thoughts suddenly dove through all the things that could have gone wrong. “Lilia’s okay right?” Yakov didn’t look upset enough for anything to be wrong with her. He tried to calm down.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s fine. We spoke a few minutes ago. She is taking care of the problem.”

 

“What happened?” Viktor pushed his hands into his pockets as they walked into the rink.

 

“It’s Georgi. He and his girlfriend have apparently split.” Yakov looked away toward the ice and the other competitors that were warming up.

 

“Good. Maybe now he’ll focus on his skating.” Viktor hated sounding cold about this, but Georgi had been bordering on the obsessive with regards to Anya, and it wasn’t healthy.

 

“Hmm, not good actually. He made a scene.” Yakov drummed on the side of the rink wall as he spoke. “He was arrested for his behavior. Luckily he didn’t strike her. He just yelled, a lot.”

 

“Why?”

 

“She cheated on him, maybe. He found out, then he found her at a restaurant with the man that she’d been sleeping with. It would have been so much better if she’d just left him. He could have maybe sulked and then moved on.”

 

“Still…”

 

Yakov repeated him, “Still.”

 

“So, Lilia is dealing with him.”

 

“She picked him up and deposited him at home. Karloff is staying with him until we return. Of all the times to be dealing with this.”

 

“Who told you about it?” Viktor decided to sit down and put his skates on. 

 

“Mila. She apparently was at the restaurant with Anya and the new boyfriend. She said that Anya did try to break up with him. Georgi just didn’t understand or accept it apparently. I don’t know who to believe. This is why I try not to get involved in skater romance. I am not interested in this one bit.”

 

“Well, it is nice of Lilia to take care of this. I will buy her flowers to thank her when we return.” Viktor leaned over to tie his skates and to hide his face. “Of course, I will be very busy when I get back. Maybe you can take the flowers to her on my behalf.”

 

He felt the solid whack of Yakov’s hat slap the top of his head. “Idiot,” he growled out. Viktor did his best to stifle the laugh, and made sure not to sit up until he was certain that Yakov wouldn’t see his face.

 

* * *

 

Viktor eventually got up and made his way onto the ice. He did his best to tune out the other skaters as he skated the edge of the rink. He felt the presense at his side. “Hello, Viktor.” Viktor turned and looked at Chris. 

 

“Hello yourself.” Viktor spun around and skated backwards. “How’s it going with Sam?”

 

“Oh, you don’t waste any time.” Chris spun around and skated backwards alongside him. 

 

“So, tell me. Is he here?”

 

Chris pointed off at the first row of seats. “He is. He’s right there.” They both waved and Sam waved back. They skated to the rink wall right across from him. 

 

“Hello, Sam.” Viktor leaned into the wall.

 

“Hello, Viktor.” Sam got up and made his way to the wall. Chris was at Viktor’s side, leaning on the rink wall too. Sam leaned into Chris and kissed him. It was light and quick. 

 

“So I guess things are going well. Chris has neglected to give me all the details.” Viktor pushed away from the wall to make a little spin. 

 

“Chris, I’m disappointed. You could have at least told him I’m awesome.” Sam laughed.

 

Chris reached over the wall and pulled Sam back into a much more impressive kiss. “You are awesome.” 

 

Yakov hollered down. “That does not look like warming up, Viktor.” 

 

Viktor looked up at Yakov and gave him a nod. “Duty calls, boys.” Viktor skated away, and Chris followed. 

 

“I owe you, Viktor. I really owe you.”

 

“Then I guess you’ll let me have an easy shot at the gold?” Viktor laughed as he picked up speed, leading into a jump.

 

“I said I owe you, but I’m not about to let my boyfriend watch me lose to you. I’m bringing him gold.” Chris let him skate ahead. Viktor jumped and then followed it with another. He focused on the ice, on the music that he imagined from his routine. He’d skate to it in a few hours. Yakov looked pleased up in the stands. He gave him another jump. 

 

Another skater entered the ice, Yuri Katsuki. Viktor made his triple a double. He nearly didn’t land it. He decided to just skate the perimeter. Chris skated back to his side again. “Your boyfriend is here.” He winked and skated off.

 

“Rude,” Viktor called after him. He attempted to focus again. Yuri skated past him. He had his hands in his pockets. He seemed to just be skating the edge. He didn’t look like he had any intentions involving jumping. Viktor couldn’t help but watch him. He skated and didn’t do anymore jumping himself. 

 

Yuri stopped at the edge of the rink. His coach was there. Yuri handed him his jacket. “See if you can get a couple of triples in. Then do the step sequence. I’ll be here when you finish.” Viktor realized he was just skating in slow circles nearby in an effort to listen to them. Yuri seemed to tune them all out. He was singularly focused. He rounded the edge of the rink a second time and then leapt into the air. He landed the triple smoothly and beautifully.

 

“My god,” Viktor said aloud. Yuri jumped and landed a second triple right after.  _ He’s so graceful. _ Viktor skated to the edge of the rink and exited. There was no point in pretending to warm up. He was ready to skate the short program without the extra time on the ice.

 

He watched Yuri skate. He felt a level of peace wash over him. He was going to meet him. He was going to figure out how to make this work. _How?_ _I’m going to say five full words to him._ He thought it out. He counted it out as he thought the words. _Want to get a bite?_ He let the sentence run through his head again. _Too casual?_ He thought about other possibilities. _Hello, Yuri. Would you like to get dinner with me after the short program._ He shook his head. _Too formal. Damnit. This is not difficult. What’s the worst that can happen? He says no. He walks away from me. He won’t._

 

“Viktor, what are you doing?” Yakov was at his side.

 

“I’m done. I’m going back to the hotel.”

 

“We only have two hours. You need to stay.”

 

“It’ll be fine Yakov. I just need to get my head on straight.” Yakov threw up his hands with a sigh. Viktor made his way past him.

 

“Fine. I’ll see you back here later.” Viktor took in the words and gave him a quick wave as he exited the building.

 

* * *

 

He’d been to the Grand Prix Final many times before. It was not something that he thought much of. It was easy, and his competition would come in respectably at a distant second, third and so forth. Viktor knew what he was capable of and what the rest of the competitors were capable of. He could see the progression of the days, but the one thing he couldn’t seem to figure out was how to get five minutes alone with Yuri Katsuki. He was never in any of the public places. He was always only on the ice, or sequestering himself off in some dark hallway with his headphones on.

 

Viktor watched him skate and felt the horror that Yuri must have felt when he didn’t land his second or even his third jump. The next day was no better. His free program resulted in a last place spot. Viktor skated his programs, and completed his interviews. He took to the podium and was surrounded by the roar of the crowds. It was his name on their mouths. It was him that they were cheering. It was all waves of sound crashing on rocks. He was still pleased though. Yakov was happy as well.

 

They stayed for Yuri Plisetsky’s final performance as a junior skater. Viktor was pleased with his progress. He still endeavored toward jumps that he didn’t need at the expense of his footwork and technical details, but he was beautiful to watch. He had potential.  _ Yakov will have his hands full. _

 

When all was done, they left together. Plisetsky had skulked off somewhere for a time, then he came back. Yakov gave him some advice as they were walking out. A few fans wanted to take pictures. Viktor stopped and posed. He signed a few posters and programs. He dragged Plisetsky over to pose at his side. He seemed to be rather unhappy with that. It made Viktor want to do it again the moment that the child slipped away. “What Yuri, you don’t want to be famous. Come pose with me Yuri.” The child stomped off toward Yakov. Viktor wasn’t sure he heard him correctly, but he was pretty sure that he had called him bear shit or some such thing. He had to laugh at that.

 

He caught up with Plisetsky just before they headed out into the concourse. Yakov was far ahead of Plisetsky. Viktor half paid attention. Then he saw the other Yuri standing off to the side talking with one of the announcers. “Yuri.” He realized that he said it out loud only after the deed had been done. He had to cover. He continued as if it was to Plisetsky that he had spoken. “You did well tonight, but I think that your step sequence could use some…” Yuri began talking over him.

 

Yakov heard him and began inserting himself into the conversation. Viktor tried not to be too obvious. He glanced over at Yuri while Yakov rattled on about whatever had angered him in the moment. A moment passed, and he’d only been able to sneak a glance past his hair. Then he decided to turn his attention fully on Yuri. He was surprised to find Yuri staring at him. This was his opportunity. Just five words.  _ Maybe he’d like to grab a bite. No, we have the banquet. No one goes out to eat before the banquet. I don’t know what to say. I have nothing. Shit.  _  “You want to get a photo?” He flipped his hair aside and added, “Sure thing.” 

 

Yuri looked stunned, then he didn’t say anything. He just turned and walked away.  _ Shit. Why’d I say that? Shit. _ His coach walked over after Yuri walked out. “I’m sorry. He’s just a little crushed after the loss today.”

 

“I assumed. Is he coming to the banquet tonight?” Viktor felt the weight of the moment settling solidly on his chest. His opportunity was blown.

 

“He will try to get out of it. I’m going to force his attendance. I think it will be good for him.” 

 

“This will give me a chance to make amends. Leave it to me to assume that everyone wants a picture.”

 

The coach laughed, “Don’t they?” He held out his hand. “I’m Celestino.”

 

Viktor shook his hand. “Good to meet you.” He let go. “See you at the banquet then.”

 

They parted ways and Viktor hoped for another shot at this whole plan.


	11. What I've Been Looking For All Along

 

Viktor made the rounds that night. His finely tailored suit was accentuating his best features. He was given a glass of champagne just as Chris and Sam came into the room. They made their way to him without pausing for any of the other groups in between. “We should duck out early and hit the clubs.” Chris reached out to a passing waiter and took a glass of champagne from his tray. “Sam will be our sober driver.”

 

“And here I thought that dating you would be a change from the ordinary,” Sam said. His words though held no negativity. Chris looped an arm around his waist and Sam seemed entirely pleased.

 

“I have no plans for leaving here tonight. This might be my last banquet, after all.” Viktor even threw in a wink for good measure.

 

“Yakov will never go along with that. Besides, I’m starting to think that you are just saying all of this retirement stuff because you are craving attention.”

 

Viktor bristled under that comment a little. It was not the sort of thing he wanted at all. In fact, he had hoped that he’d be able to slip out of the limelight without much of a struggle.  _ Well, maybe I do want a little respectable attention at the end of it all. Fame does after all pay the bills. _ “I do not need attention. I get more than one could ever ask for without even trying.” He drank down the last of the champagne and scanned the room for more. 

 

Others came into their group and engaged in idle chit chat. At some point, a DJ started playing music. Chris grabbed Sam’s hand and dragged him out to the dance floor. “Do not fight me on this. We will dance.” Sam laughed at him as he was pulled from Viktor’s side.

 

“I hope you remember that this is something I excel at.” Sam looked back at Viktor and threw a wink. 

 

“Ah, Mr. Ice Dancer. You think you still have the moves?” Chris laughed. Sam gave him a little shrug.

 

“I remember his routine’s, Chris. Hope you can handle him.” Viktor broke away from the rest of the group that surrounded them and found a wall to lean into. He watched the entry to the banquet hall and planned his words. 

 

Yuri Plisetsky came over to him. “Why are you sulking?”

 

“I’m not sulking.” He was sulking.

 

“You just won. You don’t make sense.” Yuri leaned into the wall at his side.

 

“Why are you holding up a wall? You are young. Go dance.” Viktor elbowed him a little to get him moving. 

 

Yuri came out of the lean. He stepped toward the dance floor and then turned back to Viktor. “I heard some of the girls over there saying that they were going to ask you to dance. Should be interesting to watch that.”

 

Yuri wandered away from him and into the crowd of dancers. It was like the most awkward prom. There were people dancing by themselves, people drinking, people that were dancing together. It was all such an odd collection of types. Then Viktor saw Celestino and Yuri enter the room. It looked like Yuri was being dragged in a little by his coach. Once they were firmly in the center of the room, Celestino let Yuri’s arm go. The poor guy just stood there for a moment like he didn’t know what a party was or anything about what to do next. 

 

Viktor pushed off the wall, intending to make his way toward him, help him out. Then he remembered the rebuff earlier, and leaned back into the wall. It would be better to plan out something to say that wasn’t as bad as before. He watched as Yuri made his way to the far table, scooping up a glass of champagne as he went. 

 

Viktor watched as Yuri drank glass after glass of champagne. Eventually Plisetsky came back to his side and said, “Why are you watching that pig?”

 

Viktor blanched at that and looked down at the younger Yuri. “I’m waiting to see if he dances. He is rather graceful on the ice.”

 

“He’s nothing. I’m hoping that he won’t return. We don’t need two Yuri’s, especially one that is…” He paused a moment and then finished with, “lacking.”

 

Viktor noticed that Yuri had turned back to the dance floor and stumbled a little with his first step. “You really think he’s lacking?” Yuri just snorted out a half laugh. “Maybe you should challenge him to a dance off.” Viktor had no clue why he was encouraging this. 

 

“It will be a waste of time. He won’t do it.” Plisetsky actually walked away from him though toward Yuri as if he had every intention of making a solid effort. Chris and Sam parted from each other at the same time on the dance floor, and somehow Chris managed to be at Plisetsky’s side. Together they walked over to Katsuki.

 

Viktor couldn’t hear what was said, but he was sure that the challenge was handed out. Yuri Katsuki looked different from before. He had looked somewhat passive and sad at first, also a little drunk. Once Plisetsky and Chris approached him though, the look had shifted into something else. Then, as Plisetsky began issuing his challenge, the look changed entirely to one of ferocity. 

 

There are those that like a good challenge, those that thrive on it. This drunk skater seemed to be entirely invested in the idea of this dancing competition. And since they were a room full of skaters that competed with each other constantly, everyone was enthusiastic about the idea and even amused. Chris threw his hat in the ring as a competitor. Viktor found his attention pulled entirely into their planning, despite the fact that he was standing with another group.

 

The DJ got roped into the plan and agreed to play the music that each one choose for his dance. Plisetsky went first with his dance. He was skilled. He had swift moves that were confident and fluid. He spun and dropped to the ground, kicking up his legs high into the air with his hands and forearms the only things touching the ground. He propelled himself back upright and grinned triumphantly as the song came to the chorus.

 

Yuri Katsuki had watched it all, seemingly memorizing the moves. He waited a few beats into the chorus before doing the exact same moves but quicker. He had a languid sexuality to his movements, that Plisetsky just couldn’t capture with his own body. Katsuki was, at least as Viktor saw him, pure sex appeal. He was, apparently, not the only one that noticed. Chris was moving into the dance next.

 

It was the last verse, and it hardly gave him anything to work with, but Chris was right up beside Katsuki rolling his hips into the side of the young man. Plisetsky just moved off to the side and rolled his eyes. Katsuki for his part, went with it. He didn’t let Chris control the dance though. He seemed to dictate their moves as he put his hands on Chris’ hips and rolled his body against him. The crowd around them cheered encouragement. 

 

Viktor found himself moving closer with the next song. This time Chris started it all off and each of the Yuri’s followed his lead. This went on and on, song after song of hard, fast beats, and their bodies seemed to be filled with the melodies. They danced to each, and the crowd surrounding them was invested in all of it. At some point Katsuki grabbed a full bottle of champagne from a passing waiter. He drank down several gulps of it straight from the bottle.

 

There was a pause between the songs now, and Chris wandered over to Viktor. “I keep thinking we’re done, but then we just keep going. I’m not sure how to win this thing except by outlasting them.”

 

Viktor laughed at him. “You aren’t going to let the child beat you are you?” 

 

Chris looked offended. “I wasn’t really talking about him. It was Katsuki that was the real competition. I’m seriously struggling here. Such stamina.”

 

They both looked out at the dance floor and watched as the two Yuri’s danced side by side now. It was almost like they’d choreographed a routine or something. It was impressive. Katsuki had his shirt open now, and his tie was undone. Viktor was watching with undisguised awe. “Shit.”

 

Chris heard him and seemed to realize that he needed to get back out there if he was going to save face against them. He grabbed Viktor’s hand and pulled him out to the floor. “If I’m losing this thing, you’re going down with me.”

 

“Why? What’d I do?” Viktor asked, but he joined him anyway.

 

“You know full well what you did.” Chris had his second wind and the song shifted into a salsa. The mix of the songs was crazy. One song was contemporary hip-hop, the next might be a tango. It didn’t matter. Each of them had been through some sort of dance instruction for skating, at least that’s what Viktor assumed. Chris pulled Viktor through the salsa as the others fell aside to watch. Viktor managed to notice the look on Katsuki’s face as the dance with Chris went on.

 

Unexpectedly, the song shifted into “Los Toreadors.” Viktor knew this song well. He’d skated to a version of it some years before. He liked the way that it sounded, like a march. It was intended for a Paso Doble. Perhaps equally unexpected was the way that Katsuki inserted himself between Viktor and Chris. They were close now. Yuri was pressed right up against him. “You’ll dance this one with me.” He husked out the words into Viktor’s face. The smell of the alcohol was thick on him. 

 

Viktor nodded acceptance, and Chris gave a little bow as he gave up his dance partner. He looked almost relieved to be getting a break. Plisetsky stood off to the side next to Chris a moment later. After all the Paso Doble is a couple’s dance. He seemed entirely uninterested in taking part in this with Chris.

 

The movements were seductive. Yuri ran his hands up Viktor’s chest. Viktor sucked in a deep breath as he did so. This was not what he expected from his evening, but he was not complaining one bit. They moved in sync to the marching beats. Yuri drove him backwards. The crowd circled them and began clapping in time to the music. They parted but Viktor felt like there was no air between them at all. 

 

He moved through the footwork of the dance, and by some miracle, Yuri’s footwork matched. It was similar to what he had done in his skating routine all those years before. They moved back to each other and Viktor reached out, taking Yuri’s hand in his, he raised it over their heads. He slipped his other hand around his waist and they spun quickly in time with the music. Their feet slapped out the beat of the song with each move. Viktor rested his forehead on Yuri’s as they moved to the song. Their bodies moving together perfectly. 

 

Then Yuri pushed away from him with a flourish. He lowered his head a little and with a devilish grin raised his hands to the sides of his head like he was making the horns of a bull. Viktor laughed and made like a matador before the charge. They danced through the last notes of the song, and ended nearly breathless. Well, Viktor was breathless. Yuri hardly seemed affected at all. Yuri leaned in close to him at the end and said, “I’ve wanted to dance with you for years.” It was quite the admission.

 

Viktor stood there dumb-struck. All this worrying and here was Yuri seemingly on the exact same page. “Really?” His voice was low and full of all the seductive promise he could offer after such a dance. Yuri crowded up against him again. The music had moved onto something slower, but they weren’t dancing. Chris was moving languidly just out of the corner of his eye, but Viktor couldn’t focus on anything but Yuri who was somewhat moving him outside of the circle of people.

 

“You liked dancing with me.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement made right up against his ear.

 

Viktor moved his hands to Yuri’s hips and leaned into his other ear. “Obviously.” The music in the room was loud and Chris was getting some hoots from the crowd watching him. Plisetsky had his face in his hands and appeared to be moving out of the crowd. “Oh, dear god.”

 

Yuri leaned away from him and followed his gaze. “Where did the pole come from?”

 

“It must have been there the whole time. I guess it’s holding up the stage lights.” Viktor looked at it a little more though and at Chris literally pole dancing for the crowd. He’d shed layers of clothing and was making the most of the attention. “Actually, I don’t think that pole has any other purpose but this.”

 

Yuri turned his attention back to Viktor and took off his tie as he did so. He tied it around his forehead. He reached down to Viktor’s hand and pulled him back to the crowd. “This is a competition. He doesn’t get to beat me here, not with you watching.” He was saying it to the space in front of him, but Viktor caught the tone, the ferocity of it. They stopped moving forward once they broke through the crowd. They watched Chris’ routine. Yuri turned to face Viktor, pressing his body flush against him. Viktor could barely contain his surprise. 

 

The beat of the music was not in sync with Yuri’s moves by any stretch of the imagination. He began gyrating against Viktor like he was hearing his own tune or no tune at all. Viktor didn’t stop him. He just stared at him, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. Viktor heard himself stutter out a noise of some sorts. Then he noticed that others were watching them now too.

 

Yuri said, “Viktor,” he gyrated some more as he spoke each word. “My family runs a hot spring resort.” He kept moving against him. Viktor was doing his best to follow the words Yuri was slurring out. Chris had moved away from the pole for a moment and stood next to them. “So please come.” Yuri threw his arms around him now and held him tight. His cheek was pressed to Viktor’s chest. Then just as suddenly he let go a little and looked up at him and added, “If I win this dance-off, you’ll become my coach. Be my coach, Viktor.” The last was said with some enthusiasm and a look that was so pure that Viktor had a hard time seeing the Yuri of just a few moments before that was all seduction and bravado. He could feel his face heating up into a blush. Then Yuri launched at him again, throwing his arms over his shoulders in another hug.

 

Chris set a hand on Yuri’s back and said, “Sounds like you and I are the finalists then, unless,” He turned to Plisetsky who looked absolutely disgusted by everything he was witnessing. “You still in?”

 

“After seeing that,” Plisetsky waved his hands at both of them and said, “I’m likely going to be sick. I’m out.”

 

Chris leaned in close then and said, “Looks like it’s just you and me and the pole then.” He waved out toward the pole and Yuri stepped away from Viktor.

 

Yuri smiled from Chris to Viktor. “Oh, it’s on.” Viktor reached out to him before he got away. He pulled the tie off his head.

 

“This is no way to wear a tie.” He returned it to Yuri’s neck. It wasn’t on right given that his shirt was entirely undone. The state of his clothing was, well, leaving little to the imagination. Viktor tied the tie loosely against Yuri’s bare chest. 

 

Not to be left out, Chris stepped up alongside them shirtless and said, “Guess we’re wearing ties now. Gotta keep it classy.” He tied his own tie back on and marched to the pole. “DJ, give us something good.” The music started again. Most of the crowd looked a little shocked now if the truth was told. No one really had imagined that there’d be pole dancing.

 

Yuri moved to the pole as well. He stood observing the dance that Chris was doing. He gazed around the room and seemed to spot the lone bottle of champagne on the far table. It was his from before. He went over and scooped it up, taking a long pull from it as he walked back. Chris moved from the pole and leaned into Yuri’s ear, whispering something. Viktor wondered what he’d said, because immediately after he leaned away, Yuri was staring right at him like he was the only one in the room. Viktor thought he could live in that stare and felt the blush rising into his cheeks again.

 

Yuri made the move with two fingers from his eyes to Viktor’s, the one that said I’m watching you; watch me. He and Chris eagerly went into the dance. Somehow during the dance, clothing was shed. Sam came to Viktor’s side. Where he was before was a mystery. “Looks like our boys are having fun.” 

 

“An overwhelming amount of fun.” Viktor didn’t bother disagreeing with the term  _ our boys _ as it hardly seemed necessary. Yuri was strong. Chris was too. Somehow Yuri was practically standing on Chris, champagne bottle held aloft. People were taking pictures and videos of the whole thing. Viktor was too surprised by it all to raise his own camera. He’d managed to take some pictures before. 

 

_ Maybe I can get someone to send me all of this.  _ He looked at Sam then and saw that he was filming.  _ Good. _ Sam looked at him and said, “Gotta save this for posterity. I don’t imagine this’ll all be clear for him in the morning.” They both laughed.

 

“You must send me the video.” 

 

“Of course.” It was nice to be afforded the simple pleasure of just watching them move together. It was perhaps the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Yuri’s legs were the corded muscles of one that has run daily. He’d gained weight, but he was still beautiful and fit by most standards if not by the standards of most skaters. Viktor noticed the way his broad chest glistened under a thin film of sweat. There was a good chance he might be able to get in another dance with him.

 

It was getting late though, and all of this could end in an instant. Sadly that’s exactly what happened. The song ended, and Yuri’s coach came over to collect him. He’d scooped up the discarded clothes and convinced him to put some of them on. Yuri seemed to be looking for him as Coach Celestino lead him away. Viktor stalked across the room that was now emptying out.

 

“Wait,” Viktor said as he reached out to Celestino’s shoulder. 

 

They both turned to him. “Viktor?” Celestino said the name as more of a question, but he was really just seemingly surprised about being stopped. 

 

“I just wanted to have a word with Yuri before you whisked him away.” He smiled to encourage compliance. Celestino stepped aside. Yuri was not at all sober. His eyes were hooded, giving off only the slightest sparkle. He was smiling though, a happy little drunk.

 

“Viktor.” Yuri slurred his name, but it sounded like the murmurings of desire. Viktor reached out to him and pulled him into a hallway next to the banquet room.

 

Viktor called out to Celestino as he left, “I’ll bring him back in just a moment.” Celestino just waved him off. The door to the hallway clicked shut behind them, and for a moment, Viktor thought it might be locked and that he’d fail at keeping that last promise.  _ Oh, well. _ Yuri looked like he was about to fall over. Viktor pushed him back up to the wall. “You won, just wanted you to know.” He breathed the words against Yuri’s cheek.

 

“What do I win?” Yuri clutched at Viktor’s side. His head dipped down to Viktor’s shoulder. His breathing was deep. “You want to dance with me again, Viktor?” He began a slight bit of movement that might be a dance, but it was really just Yuri swaying about just barely on his feet. 

 

“I don’t know. You seem like you might be done for the night.” Viktor moved a hand up to his cheek and let his thumb run a streak back to his hairline. “Do you have any requests?”

 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” The question had an underlying earnestness. He was weaving a bit as he asked it, and Viktor lowered his hand to Yuri’s hip again to hold him steady.

 

“You should. You should kiss me.” He smiled down at him and waited. Yuri didn’t kiss him though; he just stared at him with all the intensity he had before. Viktor would have leaned in and kissed him himself, but somehow he thought that it had to be Yuri that initiated it. Viktor was feeling the intoxication running through him, but he hadn’t consumed half as much champagne as Yuri.  _ God, you’re beautiful. _

 

“I am so much going to kiss you.” Yuri swayed a bit more and looked like he might fall. Viktor caught him and held him. 

 

“I think maybe I’ll have to take you up on this at a later date. Seems like you might not stay conscious for it. I like the people I kiss to be conscious.” Yuri was grinning away at him the whole time that he spoke. Viktor looped an arm around him and pulled him along the hall, back into the banquet room. The door was unlocked, and Celestino was waiting in the nearly empty space.

 

“So you are done with me, Viktor.” Yuri managed.

 

“ _ Au contraire.  _ I’m merely differing the pleasure of your company until a later date. Next time we meet, I expect us to pick this up right where we are leaving off.” To make his point he leaned in and planted a kiss gently on Yuri’s cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning before you leave, if you want that.”

 

“Yes,” Yuri managed that word with only a slight slurring. Celestino came over and took Yuri away from Viktor. 

 

“I’m sure he appreciated the attention. He’s admired you for years,” Celestino said. 

 

Viktor merely nodded and watched the two of them move off and out of the room.

 

* * *

 

He got up early and got ready. Viktor was kicking himself for not planning better. He never gave Yuri a meeting time, just a general, I’ll see you in the morning. He knew as he got ready that he’d made a great big mistake, but he had hope. He packed his bag and got down to the lobby at what most would consider to be too damn early. He took a spot on the large sofa across from the check-in/check-out desk and waited. 

 

A few skaters popped over to chat as they checked out. He never saw Yuri. Yakov had said that they’d meet in the lobby at 10:30. It was getting close to that time now. He felt ridiculous. He popped up from the couch and made his way to the counter, dragging his luggage behind him. “Excuse me.” The woman behind the desk lifted her head and smiled. Viktor continued, “I’m wondering if Yuri Katsuki has checked out yet.”

 

He did his best to not drum at the counter as she turned to her computer. “Let me look. It’ll be just a moment.” She tapped a few keys then turned back to him. “It appears as though he checked out quite some time ago.”

 

“How?” He ran a hand through his hair.  _ I’ve been down here for hours.  _ “How many hours ago did he leave?”

 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I really don’t know. I just know that his room has already been cleaned by housekeeping, and they went around at least two hours ago to the rooms that had been vacated early.”

 

Viktor nodded and dragged his bags back to the sofa. He slumped down into the seat as if his whole body was being weighed down.  _ Another missed opportunity, _ he thought. He watched the elevator now and waited for Yakov. He felt like everything was off. He felt like he’d lost some small thing that might matter so much. He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh.  _ Grow up Viktor.  _ He said to himself.  _ Plenty of other opportunities out there. _ Yakov got off the elevator with Plisetsky in his wake. He seemed to almost brighten up as he noticed Viktor sitting in the lobby.

 

Plisetsky said, “Why are you here already?”

 

“Decided to be early.” Viktor didn’t elaborate further. He just got up and dragged his luggage behind him to the exit.

 

Yakov spoke to Plisetsky behind him, saying, “You could learn a lot from him. Be more like Viktor.” 

 

Plisetsky swore under his breath, and Viktor laughed. They got in the car together and headed home.

 

* * *

 

Time passed, and Viktor became the five time World Champion. When he came home after winning the GPF and then the World Championship, it was with a feeling that he might be able to give skating another year of his life. It was an odd shift to have all of a sudden. There was still the ever present weight on his chest that seemed in no danger of departing. He still felt like there was something else missing too. The life he lived though provided plenty of distraction. He was also incredibly talented, winning by such large margins that it seemed he barely had to be consciously trying.

 

In the off-season, it was harder to distract himself. He didn’t need to constantly practice, but he did have other duties that he needed to attend to. The Viktor Nikiforov brand needed attention. There were promotional endeavors that he had to work on. He had a photoshoot and several small events that he had agreed to attend. The pay was good, and the events were the sort that he felt positive about. This change in patterns was good for him.

 

He was relatively happy. And though he was still trying to figure out the long road ahead, he told himself that he had time. He told himself that the pressure that was ever building within him would maybe pass. Others surely had felt like this before. Yakov tried to push him into helping with Georgi after they returned to St. Petersburg. Viktor felt no desire to do anything on that front and said as much. 

 

He poured himself instead into the smaller day to day acts. Brand promotion took him out of his head and so too did time with Makkachin. He also had time to sleep in and put his home in order. His phone buzzed. Viktor reached over to the end table and looked at the screen. There was a text from Chris.  _ Viktor, you need to see this. _ There was a link. 

 

Viktor got comfortable on the couch. Makkachin hopped up into the space between his legs. His head rested on Viktor’s leg immediately. Viktor clicked on the link. It took him to a YouTube video.  _ Yuri Katsuki. _ He stared at the screen, feeling his breath hitch. Then Yuri started skating. He knew this routine. He more than knew this routine. This was his routine, and Yuri was skating it better than he had in the Grand Prix Final. Yuri moved like the music was in him. He even included the quads. The whole performance was flawless.

 

He watched it a second time, and then he watched it a third.  _ Be my coach, Viktor. _ He got up rather suddenly, surprising Makkachin as he did. He paced back and forth in front of his window. He felt the pull, the first blooming desire to just leap and hope for a solid landing that wasn’t guarenteed.

 

There are moments in life that we live toward, a constant pressure building, building, building, and we never know what it is until the dam bursts, and we’re suddenly in a world of pure cool water. This was Viktor’s moment. He stood, phone in hand and felt the dam burst. He felt the pressure shoot away from him. It was clear what he’d do. He just couldn’t move from the shock of the realization.

 

He turned just slightly and looked down at Makkachin. He lifted his phone back up to gaze at the image. It was paused in place. Yuri’s eyes were closed, like he was dreaming. Viktor closed his eyes too, breathing in a deep, satisfying breath that he held while his mind swam. The choice he was making was dizzying. He opened his eyes and hit play on the video again. He watched Yuri move through the song. He watched him glide over the ice like it was all just an extension of him.

 

When Yuri came to the end of the routine again, Viktor hit pause before the last moment. Yuri’s eyes were still open and seemed to be staring right at him. The video was filmed at a distance, but it was a moment that still felt intimate, and Yuri seemed to be closer than he was. Viktor’s thumb casually swept back and forth on the edge of the phone. “You did win,” Viktor whispered. 

 

They’d never exchanged numbers or any other information. When Yuri didn’t show up in the lobby the next morning, Viktor had to work hard to convince himself that it was all just a missed connection that no one had consciously failed to make.  _ Should have asked when he was leaving. _ It was the the millionth time he had silently berated himself over this.  _ How does one communicate when one had no public social media and no phone number by which to do so? _

 

Viktor thought about that question for some time while standing in the middle of his home, his very empty home. As if he heard his thoughts, Makkachin gave a little yelp. “Hello, girl. I’m okay.”  _ I suppose you make a video. I suppose you show what you’re made of and hope that it matters.  _ He stepped over to the window that looked out toward one of the many rivers in St. Petersburg. The early morning sunlight sparkled off of it and made everything a little more magical. 

 

He could almost smell the crisp, cool air. He could almost smell the water as it swirled and flowed away to the seas. He could close his eyes and imagine he was on it, just carried away from everything he knew to something he was always meant to find. In the winter it would freeze over, and still. It was moving now though, and it was carrying in its movement the very promise that he had been moving toward his whole life. He just had to choose to do something unexpected, fall into the current, get carried off toward Yuri, toward something that could be so great.

  
“Oh, Yuri. There is so much I’m going to teach you.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always thank you for any kudos you feel like leaving and any kind words. You can also find me on Tumblr under the name [Set My Heart on Fire](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/set-my-heart-on-fire)
> 
>  
> 
> My Destiel blog is Speary Writes Stuff.


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